


White Haired Reaper

by Lacrow



Series: White Haired Reaper [1]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/M, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, sex scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2020-08-10 18:31:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 142,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacrow/pseuds/Lacrow
Summary: Beware the man whose hair is white,His evil eyes will give you fright.He wants your soul, he wants your life,So watch out for the Reaper's scythe!





	1. The Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone recognizes this story, it was on FFN many years ago. As I'm now starting to move to this site, I will be moving over some of my stories and re-posting them here. I'll do a chapter a day, that way I can fix problems as I see them, or if I'm lazy then...I'll just post them without editing lol.

Shadows of children at play danced along the walls of a building as a young woman passed by it, making her way towards the local grocer. She kept mostly to herself, only breaking her determined walk to politely wave to the children. They smiled, then went back to their games. She smiled for a moment as well, but quickly refocused on the task at hand. The store would be closing at eight, which left her only twenty minutes to make it half way across the small town. Her pace quickened, leaving the sounds of the little ones far behind as they continued their games. The song they sang was still crisp on her ears.

_Beware the man whose hair is white,_

_His evil eyes will give you fright._

_He wants your soul, he wants your life,_

_So watch out for the Reaper's scythe!_

Face bathed in twilight, the woman shook her head as she rounded the corner. It was a rhyme everyone in town knew growing up. An old legend that no one was sure as to how exactly it had started. All anyone ever agreed on was that it made for a good ghost story to tell the children when they acted up, although from her perspective it seemed to have the opposite effect. The little ones would sing the song as they went about their business, and tease others that the Reaper was coming for them later that night. It was more of a joke than anything else, but still the older folks seemed to perpetuate the idea.

Too busy to continue dwelling on the subject however, the plain clothed blonde navigated her way across a beaten road that had seen one too many years. Loose rocks and pebbles slid underneath her as she avoided holes in the aging stone, causing her to almost trip over herself more than once. Making her way to the other side unscathed, the woman again shook her head. Yet another subject of her town others tended to avoid; it was dying. Buildings and roads had remained untreated for years. People still went along their merry ways, but neglected the one place that many had called home for generations. It was a new age, but the town's inhabitants didn't seem to be keeping up with the times.

"Are you alright, Maka?" an older gentleman approached her, the latter still standing there thinking to herself. "You know, the crosswalk's still good. It would've been a lot easier just to use that instead."

The young blonde snapped herself back at his words and smiled politely at him. "I'm fine, Mr. Camp. Just need to get to get some things before the store closes, I'm in a bit of a rush."

"Well, just don't hurt yourself getting there!" the man chuckled, waving her off as he continued on his way.

Nodding, Maka went the opposite way and picked back up with her fast walk. At least the people were still nice in that little town of her's, and there wasn't a soul walking through there that she couldn't name or place. Granted half of them were over age fifty and most had never been outside the town gates before, but at least they were familiar to her.

She rounded yet another corner, fast approaching her destination that appeared not too far off. A clock tower just off in the distance caught her attention; ten till eight. Relief washed through her, knowing that she would be in and out in no time. Maybe even make it home before dark? Perhaps that was stretching it, what with the sun quickly waning and new stars continuously replacing the void it left behind. Still, Maka found herself a little chipper at the prospect of making it on time and decided to ease up on her pace. The grocer wasn't even a hundred feet away at this point, so why rush?

Too complacent to notice where she was going however, the force of someone bumping into her sent Maka reeling. She fell soundly to the floor on her rear, clutching the bump on her head as she looked warily up to see who she had collided with. His face was familiar, but it wasn't until she heard his harsh words that the girl instantly knew who it was.

"The _fuck_ do you think you're going, brat?" he barked, clutching his forehead as well.

Maka's eyes narrowed at the sleek haired boy standing in front of her. "In case you didn't notice Lyle, I've got a good three years on you."

His face scrunched up. It always did when he was at a loss for words. "You didn't answer my question!"

Lyle Noah, though everyone in town just called him Gopher for short. He was a rodent that no one in town wanted anything to do with, mostly because of his sour attitude and the rude way he addressed people. For some reason he had a thing for attacking her verbally, but in most instances she was usually the one to switch it around on him. That face he was making was just another sign that he was fighting a losing battle of words, and their conversation had just barely started.

"I'm going to the grocer's, Gopher." Maka said flatly as she picked herself up from the floor, dusting her rear end off conservatively.

The black haired pest gave a half amused snort. "Too caught up in your novels again to remember to cook? No wonder you haven't found a man yet. If he isn't written in a book, you won't touch him!"

"Well, even a fake one's better than you." the confident blonde replied coarsely with a hand on her hip. "Paper and words are a lot more pleasant to look at than that stupid look on your face."

Maka smiled at his ever drooping frown, a clear sign that the conversation was already over. With a huff and a grunt, the Gopher quickly stomped his way past her and made a sharp turn around the corner. Smugly, the young woman looked back at the now empty spot on the sidewalk and patted herself on the back. How many times had she beaten him like that? Too many to count.

The clock tower rang off in the distance and Maka immediately threw her head in it's direction. Very clearly in the hands of the white faced tower, it read eight o'clock. It took a second for it to sink into her that she was suddenly late, but when it did, Maka smug smile was replaced with a horrified gape. Immediately she took off in a sprint towards the tiny store at the opposite end of the street, desperately hoping that it wasn't already closed. By the time she arrived, the owner was already at the door, flipping over the sign that read 'Open' on one side and 'Closed' on the other.

"Mr. Sid! Please, wait!" she huffed, catching the man's attention as she hunched over to catch her breath. "I need to buy a few things before you close!"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Maka. You know I leave at eight sharp every day, so why didn't you come sooner?"

"Please sir! I got lost in one of my novels and I forgot to come earlier!"

"What's the big deal, anyway? Don't you have anything to eat at home?" he asked warily, hand still clutching the 'Closed' sign.

Maka took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. "No. And if I don't get anything now, I'll have to wait till you open tomorrow. Which means no dinner or breakfast."

Mr. Sid closed his eyes for a moment and contemplated what to do. Maka let her pulse finally die down and stood herself straight, waiting for a reply that would ultimately decide if she was going to eat or not. It didn't take long for an answer. With a sigh and a smile, the grocer flipped the sign back to 'Open'.

"I'm not the kind of man to let a young lady go hungry."

Smiling at his generosity, Maka continually thanked him as he unlocked the door to his store. The two filed in one after the other, with one going through out the store to search for ingredients while the other went behind the counter to ring her up. Mr. Sid chuckled at the speed he found the young lady running at, stopping only to look at the freshness of vegetables or to compare prices between two things.

It didn't take long for her to round everything she needed. In under two minutes she had an armful of groceries, carefully placing them on the counter top for Mr. Sid to begin ringing up. It was a hefty load, and quite frankly the store keeper was surprised Maka could carry all of it. Still, he merely smiled as he began sorting through the mess of food, and casually began to make idle conversation.

"You seemed like you were in quite the rush, Maka." he mentioned offhandedly, examining a head of lettuce.

The girl in question wiped a beat of sweat from her forehead. "I was, until I bumped into Gopher. The little twerp cost me a whole ten minutes."

"Ah, well, that's Lyle for you." Sid replied casually, this time picking up a weighted can of beans. "He doesn't have many friends, if any. Though I can hardly blame anyone for not wanting to be."

Maka's face uncharacteristically soured. "His name's Gopher. A punk like that doesn't deserve a human name."

The grocer laughed at his client's snide remark and simply nodded in agreement. The blonde's face in turned soon melted, leaving behind a relieved smile as she realized that dinner would soon be on the table. Leaning over on the counter as Sid rung up her items, her tense body eased and she relaxed in the comfortable air of the grocery store. Nothing but a warm meal and good book to keep her company, it was going to be yet another perfect night by herself.

Both deep in contemplation, neither Mr. Sid nor Maka realized that yet another customer had walked into the store. It was past eight o'clock, and everyone in town knew that the grocer's closed at that time. And yet, sure enough, someone stood there in the doorway, letting the cool air rush past him into the darkened town outside. It wasn't until the man let the door close behind him in an audible bang did the man and woman at the counter lift their faces to greet him.

Sid's expression turned to a frown. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're closed now. Just ringing up my last customer here and after that I'm heading home."

Maka looked upon the newcomer and noticed his odd attire. A cloak hung over his head, which draped along his shoulders and hung loosely down on either side. His clothing underneath was dark, with his topcoat being striking shades of gray and black. Trousers and shoes matched, giving him a look that would've seemed suspicious if it weren't for that face of his. Calm, almost charming, he was definitely the looker. Still though, no one but traveler's and vagrants wore cloaks anymore, and even then they were a rare sight. So why then was this man wearing one?

"That's alright," the stranger said, furrowing a pleasant smile. "I'm just looking for information."

"What'cha need, sir?" Sid replied rather chipper, after placing Maka's things in a brown paper bag. The latter took it in her arms immediately.

Without any prompting, the man casually made his way towards the two. Stopping a few feet from Maka, he put his elbow up on the counter top and leaned sideways. The blonde watched as he continued to carry on with his conversation, only this time he seemed to be directing all of his attention towards her. His eyes told the story, though for some reason she didn't like the way they looked.

"I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find Lyle Noah."

Maka huffed at the question, folding her arms across the grocery back resting against her chest. "What, you mean Gopher?"

A smirk found its way across the man's lips. "Yeah. Where can I find Gopher?"

Maka shifted in her spot. She looked towards Sid, who in turn gave her a blank stare back. In her mind she wondered why on earth someone would be looking for that miscreant, being that he had no friends or family. He was just some loner who lived out back by the only church in town, keeping to himself most of the time doing god know's what. He only came into town to buy something or cause trouble, and Gopher _rarely_ went shopping for anything.

The young lady clutched her groceries tightly. "Why do you wanna know?"

"The bastard owes me something." he replied rather harshly, mustering a hollow snort. "I'm just here to collect what's mine, and be on my way."

"So you're a lone shark?" Maka asked hesitantly, shuddering at the idea of someone shaking down another person for money.

Quiet for a moment, the man seemed to think. The answer quickly came to him. "No, I'm more of a debt collector."

Looking again towards the grocer for support, she found that the only thing he could offer her was a shrug. Warily she turned her attention back towards the stranger, whose gaze still bore into her as if reading her every thought. His face remained pleasant, except for his eyes. Words couldn't describe them, with strange being a category to broad to place them in. Could she trust this man, even though she'd never met him before in her life? And why exactly did she suddenly care for Gopher's well being? Certainly she never had before.

Ultimately, Maka came to a conclusion. She would tell him whatever she knew, then leave it at that and carry on with her life. No blood would be on her hands, and she could walk away with a clean conscious.

"So, can you tell me where he is? Or should I go ask someone else for help?"

She took a deep breath, then warily nodded. "He lives out behind the church near Hook Cemetery. Last I saw he was heading home, just follow the road up north."

A smile immediately spread across the man's face as he lifted himself up from the counter. Maka watched him cautiously as he came closer, his hand prying away one of her's that clasped around the brown bag in her arms. She tensed at his grasp, fearing that he was trying to pull something funny. Instead, the man simply placed a single kiss on her hand and looked up at her with a wide, toothy grin.

"Thanks, beautiful. That's all I needed to know."

She felt the red flush across her cheeks and quickly retracted her hand from his. Sid watched from behind his spot at the counter as the strange customer of his took a step back and pivoted with his heels to face the opposite direction, making his way back to the door he had come from. Thankful at the thought of him leaving for good, Maka just stood there and watched the stranger walk away, her confused expression telling of the jumbled thoughts flying through her head.

Who was he? Why did he want Gopher? And most importantly, why did he come _here_? The door was closed, with a sign that showed it and everything. He had no idea that people were in here, and yet the man walked in anyway. _Did_ he know that people were inside? There was no way, unless of course he was watching them walk in. Was he a stalker? A mugger?...A murderer-?

"-Oh, and Maka..."

Immediately thrust back into reality, the troubled woman looked on with Sid at the man as he stood in the doorway yet again. His exit thrust open, cold air and wind poured into the tiny grocery store as he faced them stoically. Maka held back her hair as it whipped from the turbulence, at the same time waiting for him to get on with whatever it was he was going to say next. For a few moments the man was silent, simply staring at her with a cool face and powerful eyes. The blonde again became confused, wondering why all of a sudden he said nothing. But as she continued to look back at him and search his features for any sort of clues, Maka's eyes grew wide at a terrifying revelation.

She had never told him her name. How on earth did he know who she was?

In an instant her stomach began churning as the smile returned to the man's face, as if knowing of her new found horror. Energy quickly left her, causing Maka to grab onto the counter in support. Sid clamored at the sight, immediately rushing around the counter to keep the poor girl from falling over herself. The man in the doorway simply watched in amusement as the girl nearly fainted at his presence, almost laughing at the way she fell so easily to him.

"...You should probably stay inside tonight. Read a book. I don't want you getting nightmares."

Stifling his grin, the man backed up into the darkness of the night and let it consume him. No lights outside, he disappeared as quickly as he came. That left only a confused Sid and rattled Maka to themselves, both unsure of what to say or do next. All the young blonde could do was shudder at the heart stopping thought running through her head.

It was about whether or not she had just seen what she thought she saw. A fleeting image as the man disappeared into the cover of shadows. Almost is if he changed in the night's presence, his features seemed different. His strange eyes became more powerful, piercing. But it was the other thing that caught Maka's attention, making her think back to the children from earlier that day. The song they sang, that second verse; _His evil eyes will give you fright._

She could've sworn the stranger's eyes flashed red

* * *


	2. The Church

Street lamps were nonexistent in her tiny town, a fact she had forgotten after deciding to take off after Lyle and the stranger. Mr. Sid tried his best to talk her out of it, saying that she was just tired and that he hadn't even seen the man's eyes flash red. However, Maka could not be persuaded. She took her money and placed it on the counter, though being in too much of a hurry caused her to leave the groceries with the shop keeper. Before Sid could protest further, she was already out the door, desperate to make it to Hook Cemetery and check up on Gopher.

Her feet shuffled in the darkness, shoes catching rocks as she blindly stumbled through the pitch black streets. With the moon and stars being the only sources of light, it was a wonder she hadn't already tripped over. Being careful enough to stay on the sidewalks however, Maka eventually made her way past the brick and concrete of the small town. She emerged out the other end to where the road was merely gravel and there was still grass for walkways, with the church being only a few more steps way.

"Gopher, you better be fine!" she wheezed, lungs aching for air as she ran.

With gutted streets behind her, Maka made her way up the small hill past the cemetery to her right. She made sure not to give a single glance to the grim place, what with the mood being as grim as it was. Instead, the woman focused on the door as she approached it. The sight of it slightly ajar sent her heart and mind racing, both sick with worry as to whether or not the stranger was already there. She took a deep breath, mustering all of her courage, then with a forceful hand opened the door. Silently it swung, revealing to her lamps spread all across the inside of Gopher's home.

The scene was eerie, with the soft glow of the lanterns being the only thing that kept out the night from outside. Cautiously she walked inside, eyeing strange trinkets placed atop a dresser and his misshapen bed. Maka shuddered as her attention fell to what looked like a skull placed atop one of the lanterns, but she soon realized that the skull _was _the lantern. Her stomach quickly became queasy. Just what the hell was Gopher doing with all this stuff? Was he really so bizarre?

"I can't believe Father Law let's him live here." she mumbled to herself, hand tracing along the edges of Lyle's decrepit dresser.

_"...Please don't!..."_

Maka's head immediately reeled, turning towards the origin of the sound. Gopher's voice was unmistakable in the almost whiny way he talked, and after years of putting up with his snide remarks she'd know it anywhere. From behind the door that led directly into the church, that's where it came from. Without hesitation, she made her way over and very gently cracked the door open. His voice had sounded desperate, fearful even, and if Maka was going to help him then she at least needed to know what was making him act this way.

At first, nothing appeared in her limited line of sight. Maka shifted this way and that, trying to find where Gopher was at. She could hear his continued whimpers and a few pleas for help, but still nothing showed up. After another minute of searching and having to endure Lyle's calls, Maka became fed up with it. She brashly opened the door all the way, not caring at this point what lay on the other side, and immediately she was greeted to a horrible scene. Two figures stood atop the altar in the front of the church, one hunched over the other one as he held him against the wall by the throat. Though it was dark and so hard to see, Maka knew right away who the other man was. The stranger.

"Don't fuck with me, Noah." the man hissed through razor sharp teeth, a wicked grin strung across his face.

"I swear...!...I didn't do it!-" Lyle gasped between breaths, hands clenched tightly around the other man's vice like grip on his throat. "-You gotta believe me!"

The stranger rattled Gopher by his neck and watched his feet dangle like a rag doll. "Problem is Noah, I don't."

Maka watched in terror as the stranger lifted Lyle into the air higher, not allowing him any air to breathe as gurgling sounds came from deep inside his chest. If he didn't get oxygen soon, he would likely pass out, or worse. At first her body wouldn't move, too afraid of the evil man to get anywhere near him. But as the sounds of Gopher dying filled her ears, that brash side of Maka came out again. With barely a thought, she began marching up the aisle and past the pews, not paying attention to a single word of the two men's conversation as she did.

"I'm only going to ask this once." the stranger said calmly, staring up into Gopher's pained brown eyes. "Where. Are. The souls?"

Lyle sucked in air for one last response. "I don't have anymore! Go to the cemetery if you want the rest!"

The stranger's eyes narrowed. "So that's where you've been taking them from-"

Hushed suddenly by the pain of a hand smashing into his forehead, the red eyed man had no time to react. Immediately his grip on Lyle loosened, allowing the choked boy to fall to the ground as he gasped for air. Pain streaked across the stranger's face, leaving him to clutch his forehead to somehow relieve the pain. In complete bewilderment, he threw a look up to see just what the hell had happened. There in front of him stood Maka, hands on her hips as she stood in front of Lyle, shielding the Gopher from any further harm.

The young woman sucked in breath at the sight of the stranger, whose features were now bathed in moonlight and the soft glow of candles along the altar. His eyes really were red, just like in the rhyme that all the kids in towns sang. Those normal teeth she had seen earlier were now razor sharp, as though filed down to an excessive point in the past few minutes she hadn't seen him. And although he still wore his cloak and his hair wasn't visible, she safely assumed that his locks were probably bleach white underneath.

A pained sneer marred his face. "Thought I told you to stay inside tonight, Maka."

Gopher squirmed behind her with a whimper, causing Maka's chest to fill with anger. "I'm not going to let you hurt him!"

"Maka, you need to listen to me." the stranger said calmly, his face suddenly becoming much more stoic. "Step away from him, now. I don't want your blood on my hands."

She scowled at him. "Just who the hell are you! And how do you know my name!"

"You just have to trust me."

Maka looked on from behind her scowl at the strange man's face. His flat expression caught her attention. It didn't exude the arrogance or snide atmosphere she'd known of him in the short time she'd seen him. Instead, he stared into her with red eyes that seemed to reveal a slight amount of concern. Of worry. Maka's own harsh stare lessened about a degree at the sight, but still she stood in front of Gopher, the black haired boy laid out on the ground in silence behind her.

"Why the hell should I trust you? You attacked Gopher!" she spat.

The worry grew in his eyes. "Maka, you need to get away from him. I'll explain it to you later!"

"No! I want answers!" the woman demanded, stamping her foot on the ground. "Who the hell are you! And what do you want with us!"

"Dammit Maka! This isn't a game! Step away from him, NOW!"

"Stop saying my name!"

The two stood there in a deadlock, neither letting up in their intense struggle for dominance. Maka remained firm, her arms thrown out to the sides as Gopher's whimpers and whines had long since ceased. The normally cool stranger on the other end seemed different, however. His calm face had broken, leaving a bitter scowl in it's place. Hands by his sides were now curled fists, shaking under the stress of being clenched with all his strength. His eyes were filled to the brim with emotions, most of which Maka could not name or place. She couldn't read him now, no matter how hard she tried. Just what exactly was so important that he had to kill Lyle to obtain it?

After a moment of staring at each other, however, the mood quickly shifted. The stranger's thick air seemed to falter, disappearing as his bitter scowl was replaced with a frightful look. The worry in his eyes returned with a vengeance, mouth agape as his eyes fell to the floor behind her. Maka watched warily as his fists became limp, as if the strength in him suddenly evaporated. His calm was gone, leaving only a horrified shell of a man in it's place. Words tried to leave his lips, but only two really made it out.

"Maka," he sucked in, voice sharp with despair. "Please."

She shuddered at his words as the weight of them dug into her. They were pained and desperate, as if pleading for dear life. Maka noticed his gaze wasn't focused on her, but the floor behind her. And although against her better judgement, the young woman could not fight back the urge to turn around and try to find what it was he was looking at. She threw her head over her shoulder for a brief moment, warily eyeing Gopher on the ground. Almost immediately, however, Maka quickly ran in the opposite direction at the sight she saw.

A contorted body lay flat behind her. Lyle Noah's arms and legs bent into unnatural positions, with his skin becoming a sickly darkish-gray. His stomach was wide open, revealing nothing but an empty void that seemed to carry on forever. The hole was complete with teeth made from his own flesh, almost like little arms that dangled above him which reached for anything and everything to throw into the pit. A misplaced, smug smile lingered on his lips, with his eyes staring up into the ceiling of the church as if mocking God with his unholy design.

Without hesitation and with tears streaming down her face at the despicable sight she found her neighbor in, Maka threw herself at the stranger whom she had despised not even a moment before. Desperation filled her as she clung to his chest, not sure at all what to do. The red eyed man just stood there with her, throwing his arm around her as he continued to stare at the abomination on the opposite end of the church. It began to lurch in it's place, trying to make it to it's twisted feet. Gopher's euphoric smile still was sickeningly present, eyes still upturned as if in bliss.

"I'll explain everything to you later, I promise." the man muttered in Maka's ear as she buried her face in his chest. "But first I have to fix things."

She bit her cheek in an effort to stifle her tears, but still they came. "What are you going to do?"

"Collect his dues." he replied quietly, cold determination in his voice.

Silently, the man pried Maka off himself and brought her around behind him as the deformed Gopher's body finally stood up on wobbling legs. Sounds rumbled from the gaping mouth in Lyle's stomach, sending Maka clamoring to cover her ears at the horrifying noise. She tried desperately to pretend that nothing strange was happening, but no amount of denial could keep her calm. The young woman closed her eyes and let a dizzying head fall against the stranger's back, shaking it vigorously as if trying her very best to remain sane.

The red eyed man stood firm, attention focused solely on the creature before him as it hobbled towards the two. It's appendages snapped in multiple places with every step, reaching for them with the teeth made of flesh that surrounded the void in it's stomach. Lyle's face remained in that same sickening expression. Euphoric, blissful, as if this is exactly what it wanted. The calm stranger simply frowned in disgust, hands again curling into fists at his side.

"Lyle Noah," he growled coarsely, lifting his arm up next to him. "For eating the souls of innocent corpses...!"

Gopher lurched forward at his words, almost as if warning him to stop with the speech. Undeterred, the stranger simply stared the beast down with his burning red eyes. Concern and worry had long since left him, leaving only the bitter anger that had been there before Maka arrived to interrupt them. He bore his sharp teeth at the adversary like a dog defending his territory, as if giving him a warning of his own.

"...and for plotting to take the soul of a _Grigori_...!"

In her addled state, even Maka could tell the emphasis he put on that last part. She lifted her head up at the sudden tenseness of his muscles, almost as if merely saying the word made him stiffen. His whole body seemed to shudder for a moment as the air around the two quickly grew thick with something Maka couldn't quite place, like an invisible pressure that could only be felt but not seen.

It enveloped them, sending the young woman's senses racing at the realization that the sounds of Gopher's wails could no longer be heard. Only the beating of her own heart filled her ears, along with the sound of another's whom she knew immediately was the stranger's. Time slowed in her mind, letting her experience the scene around her. What exactly was this sensation? Adrenaline?

"...I'll be taking your soul tonight."

From out behind him, she saw it. A quick flick of his wrist, a sudden crackle of light, and there it was in his hands. An ominous scythe dangled in his grasp, its solid silver hilt reflecting the light of the moon and candles around him. Maka gaped at the horrifying beauty of it, enthralled as the stranger spun it sharply in his hands. The deathly sickle at its tip cut the air in two as he swung it out in front of him, his cloak rippling from the sheer force he put into it.

As if threatened, the beast that used to be Gopher suddenly started rushing towards them. The altar that stood before him was mowed down as fleshy teeth flung ravenously about, hoping to find anything and everything to satisfy the void in his stomach. Lyle's once blissful expression became twisted like the rest of his body, turned into a hungry gape that begged to be fed. Maka grew terrified, preparing for the worst, though thankfully it never came. As she braced herself for death, the stranger in front of her made sure to prevent that from happening. The instant that Gopher rushed towards them, the red eyed man ran head on towards the creature in a bout to cut him off at the pass.

And as the image of him swinging that ghastly weapon of his at the quickly approaching monster filled her eyes, Maka's head quickly flooded with the same thoughts from earlier. Who was this man? And what did he want from them? There were still no answers. In fact, there were far more questions than before. But one thing still lingered at the forefront of her mind as the stranger raised his weapon up to take a well placed strike at Lyle Noah. The fourth and final verse of the rhyme that all children in town knew; _So watch out for the reaper's scythe._

The sight of his blade sent shivers down her spine. She knew deep down who he was.

* * *


	3. The Book

Lyle Noah died of a heart attack that night. The following morning, Father Law found the poor boy sprawled out across the church floor. Holy relics littered the area around him, with the altar itself having fallen over from what the priest assumed was Lyle's desperate throws for help. No wounds appeared on his person. Nothing out of the ordinary at all about his body. With a heavy heart, it was announced a few hours later to the citizens of Loew that he had wandered into the church at night, looking for the sleeping Father's help, and died alone when it never came. Everyone was shocked at the news, and everyone of course mourned his passing a few days later during his funeral.

Maka Albarn, however, was the only one who didn't attend the ceremony.

She was the only one who knew the truth.

It nagged at her as she hunched over the assortment of books in front of her, the young woman having spent the entire day searching the library in which she worked for certain texts that would help her. Light was fading outside as Maka's neighbors filed out of their houses, all making their way towards the church in a grim, well thought out processional. The sounds of heavy feet echoed from the hole filled streets, but the librarian simply ignored them. Too much was on her mind to care about what others were doing. Especially if it involved Lyle Noah.

"I can't believe he lied to me." she hissed under her breath, bringing a book up towards the light of a candelabra above her.

Truth was, the stranger didn't _actually _lie to her. Rather, he simply weaseled his way out of his promise. Maka bitterly recalled the parting words he gave her after having finished his grisly work with Gopher, the way in which he said them still causing her chest to swell with anger. The creature having fallen to his scythe in one smooth stroke, Maka was left standing there in shock and awe. At the time there was no way for her to react, so after watching for a moment as the stranger approached and eventually walked by her, she couldn't protest as that sharp grin marred his otherwise attractive face.

_"I'll tell you everything you want to know. But first you have to find me."_

And just like that, he was gone. Out the double doors of the modest church, leaving her alone with the man who not even a few seconds before tried to eat her. For just a moment she panicked, thinking somehow that Gopher would awaken and continue on his rampage. But quickly she realized that somehow, Lyle had returned to his normal, despicable self. Only one key detail had changed of course; the absence of his soul, and hence his life. Knowing full well of course that she couldn't stay for long, Maka merely gave one bitter glance at the corpse on the ground. A moment later and she was on the outside, scrambling to make it home under cover of night in order to avoid any night owl's eyes.

Maka slammed the book she held in her hands to the floor, cursing it for not being the one she was looking for. It was the fifth time in two days that she could've sworn it was the right piece of literature, though in all honesty the woman didn't know _exactly_ what she was trying to find. A tired heave escaped her as she leaned backwards against the bookshelf, legs falling asleep due to being crossed for so long.

"I know one of these has to help me." Maka grumbled, stretching her arms up in the air. "Every book in Loew is in this room, and I'm going to find it."

What she was looking for was any sort of information, any kind of map or clue as to where she could find him. The stranger. The Reaper. Whoever he was, Maka needed answers, and she wasn't going to lay down and accept the fact that he had walked out on her with not so much as a single explanation. Granted, Lyle Noah was a boar and brute that she gave little attention to, but that didn't mean she wanted him dead. And now that he was, Maka wasn't even sure if she should feel sorry for his passing. After all, all those thing's the stranger said...

Eating the souls of corpses? Isn't that what he accused him of? And what exactly _was _a Grigori? Maka was sure she had heard of one before, or maybe read it in a book at the very least. Still though, with the stranger not being there with her, any thoughts to herself would go unanswered until she found him. And by the looks of things, that time wouldn't come for quite a while.

Her lips pursed in annoyance. "When I get a hold of him, I'm gonna-"

The jingle of bells from the front door cut her off. She leaned her head into the aisle and looked towards the source of the noise, finding Mr. Sid standing near the front desk. He wore dark trousers, with a simple dress shirt covered by a black coat jacket. Obviously he was on his way to the funeral like everyone else. Or maybe he had just returned?...What time was it exactly?

"Ah, Maka. I was wondering where you were at." he said softly, probably thinking she was upset.

"Hi, Mr. Sid." she replied rather calmly, not quite sure if _he _was upset. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. Something came up, and I've been rather busy."

The man straightened himself a bit. "Everyone was asking for you. They all assumed your were grief stricken."

Maka shook her head. "I guess it just hasn't hit me yet."

Deep down she knew that it never would. Either that, or it had already come and gone. A slight amount of guilt pulled at her for not being affected by the death of another human being. The only thing was, she wasn't sure if Lyle was even human. Perhaps it all boiled down to uncertainty, or maybe the thought of finding the one man with answers to all her questions. No matter the answer however, it didn't stop the scene between Mr. Sid and Maka from growing slightly awkward. Neither knew quite what to say.

On a whim, the librarian gathered her books off the floor and stacked them in her arms. She then got up and walked back to the front desk, placing the batch of texts on the counter as she politely offered the shop keeper a seat. Without a word he took it, and Maka followed right after. The moment lasted only so long, and soon the atmosphere became strange again.

Mr. Sid shifted in his seat. "Who would've thought one so young could die of a heart attack?"

"He must not have eaten well." Maka replied rather quickly. For some reason, she found herself trying to cover up for that night.

"Well, it's not like anyone took care of him." the grocer seemed to sigh to himself. "I think we're all guilty of that."

A scowl registered in Maka's mind, but didn't make it to her lips. The only one who was guilty of anything was Lyle. She didn't know who the stranger was or what he was talking about, but she did know that he saved her, plain and simple. He was the only thing that stood between her and death, with Gopher being the reason he had to in the first place. There was no way she could sympathize with his passing, but then again, Mr. Sid would have no way of understanding why. Maka merely kept her thoughts to herself, and carried on absently with the conversation.

"You know..." Mr. Sid smiled, as if remembering a fond old memory. "...he had quite the crush on you, if I recall."

Maka shuddered at the thought, mouth agape in disgust. "Ugh! Please, that was years ago!"

"Oh come off it, Maka. He did till the day he died. Why else was he so mean to you?"

"Maybe because he had the brain of a five year old?" she replied rather bitterly.

Mr. Sid chuckled at her defensiveness. "Well, that certainly would have made sense. After all, you two used to be such good friends when you were younger."

Maka reeled. She had forgotten that tiny detail in the years since they'd grown apart. It wasn't just him she was friends with of course, there were others in town whom she had grown up with. But Loew was a tiny place, and everyone knew everyone during their youth. Lyle was no exception. From the time she was five till the day his grandparents died when she was twelve and he was nine, the two were inseparable. But with his guardians passing, the boy was sent to live with Father Law in the shack behind the church. After that, he became bitter and distant. One thing led to another, and by the time they were both teenagers, Maka and Lyle hated each other's guts. Or at least she did, what with Sid telling her something completely different.

"Yes, you two were quite the pair." Mr. Sid sighed, shaking his head at Lyle's wasted life.

Maka's scorn slowly resigned, leaving her feeling slightly ashamed. "Yeah, I suppose we were. A long time ago."

"All the games and stories you two would come up with!" the grocer snorted as he fell back against his chair.

"What kind of stories?" Maka asked, now showing interest in their conversation.

Sid leaned in his chair as he looked to the ceiling for answers. "Well, silly ones of course! Like the time you two broke Ms. Nygus' potted plants and blamed it on the Reaper! You said that he flew out of the sky, swooped down with a slingshot, broke them, then threw it in Lyle's hands and disappeared! She would've hit you if she wasn't laughing so hard!"

A rarely seen grin found its way on Maka's face, the girl smiling at the joy she saw in Mr. Sid's eyes as he talked about their childhood. He continued on with his conversation, telling her tales of her and Lyle's antics, mostly involving getting themselves into trouble with the older residents in town. Like the time she brought a kitty with a white stripe down its back inside the grocery store, only to find out the hard way that it was actually a _skunk._ And the time that Lyle told his grandparents he was playing doctor with the neighborhood girls, earning him a smack across the face when in actuality, he really _was _just playing doctor. Sid's tales seemed to go on forever, but Maka didn't mind. They were memories she'd long since forgotten, and now that she was rediscovering them, she didn't want it to end.

But even as she listened intently, the young woman couldn't help but to notice something. As Sid went on with his stories, she found that at least half of them involved the Reaper in one form or another. That in itself wasn't unusual of course, because all children fooled with the concept of the Reaper, but what struck her was the feeling that she should know all of this. Like in the back of her mind, there was something important she was missing from her past as Sid recalled it. Almost as if every time he said Reaper, a picture kept entering her mind, but it was just barely too foggy to see.

"Mr. Sid?" Maka interjected for a moment, hushing the man's recollection immediately. "Do you know where we got all those stories from?"

He turned and looked at her queerly. "I would assume from your imaginations of course. You had plenty of it at the time."

"But was there ever anything that encouraged us? Like a poem or something? she asked eagerly, with what she wanted to say being on the tip of her tongue.

"You mean the rhyme?" he replied in bewilderment.

"No, not the rhyme! Something else like that?"

"Can't say that I remember, Maka."

The librarian sunk back in her seat, cursing under her breath yet again for not finding what she was looking for. It was already dark outside, and if she didn't any sleep that night, she'd never have enough strength to continue looking for books. But the futility of it all started to weigh in on her; there was little she could do at this point. Almost every book in her library had been checked, and none of them had the slightest bit of information that could help her. For a moment, she actually contemplated giving up and cutting her losses. The minute she did however, a sudden gasp out of Sid shook her attention back to him.

He stroked his chin as if trying hard to recollect. "Now that you mention it, you _did_ carry around a book when you were really little."

Maka's heart skipped at least three beats. "Really? Do you know what it was called?"

"It didn't have a name, if I remember correctly." Sid scrunched his eyes, focusing on empty space. "It was real plain too, with only an author on the front."

"What was the author's name?" she asked, almost hushed in her tone.

A single word came made it through his lips. "Eibon."

Suddenly, that clouded picture in Maka's head became all too clear. A name she hadn't heard in years was now rushing through her senses, jogging a single memory that sent shivers down her spine. The young woman couldn't help but to jump up from her seat, causing Sid to nearly fall back in his own. In her mind, she smacked herself for not realizing it sooner. Out of all the books in Loew, the one that could've helped her all along was tucked away in the most secluded of places. And she knew exactly where it was.

"Maka!" Mr. Sid yelped, surprised by her sudden outburst. "What the hell's gotten into-?"

"-I can't talk now, sir!"

There was so little time for the grocer to respond to her before she ran past him. In a clamor he threw himself around, catching only Maka's back as she flung open the door to her library and rushed outside into the pitch-dark night. For the second time in three days, the man was left alone and speechless as his young friend left him all by himself, wondering where exactly she had to be in such a hurry.

Maka had no time for pondering, however. She was too focused on avoiding potholes as she ran across the antiquated streets of her tiny town, the entire time keeping the location of Eibon's book at the forefront of her mind. Despite not having seen it in years, Maka knew exactly where to find it. Her heart raced in excitement as she rounded the corner of her street, merely steps away from the modest home in which she lived. The image of the stranger's face crossed her mind as she made her way to the front door, unlocking it in a hurry as she swung it open.

By the light of a single lantern that she had left lit for when she was to arrive home, Maka scrambled towards the closet door at the opposite end of the hallway. She caused a ruckus as her feet slammed against the hard wooden floors, but she paid no mind to it. Instead, she focused all of her attention at the contents of the closet as she opened the door. A small chest in the corner caught her eye, and immediately she took it in her arms and placed it on the floor in front of her. A lock was on it, but by the looks of things it hadn't been used in ages.

"All this time, I've been looking in the wrong place!" she gasped, sucking in air out of work and excitement.

With no need for a key, the young woman lifted open the lid of the chest and gazed at the contents inside. Not much lay inside of it. A pair of scrunchies for the pig-tails she used to wear in her youth, and a lone picture of her parents when they were still together before she turned eighteen. Some poems she had written after reading her first true novel, with a few books in the very bottom of the chest. Everything in there had once meant a great deal to her, but with age came ignorance, and soon all those once important things in her life had disappeared.

But, for the moment, Maka's true intentions laid with the books on the bottom of the chest. She carefully sifted through the assortment of memories and pulled out a few small bindings. There was a poetry book and a children's story among the bunch, but what caught her attention was the one without a title. The only writing in front was placed directly in the center of the cover;_ Eibon's Fables, _written in simple gold print.

Maka tossed the cover open to reveal simple words and large text inside. "I've got your book now, Reaper."

She thumbed through the pages. It was full of old wives tales, all of them involving the evil eyed man from the stories. In her youth, she and Lyle would read through the kid-friendly information in the book and play around with concepts, though it was all just harmless fun. But as Maka continued flipping through pages and noticed one particular tale that peaked her interest, the young woman began to wonder if it really was all harmless.

"...in order to enter the House of Death," she read aloud, unable to contain her enthusiasm. "Write the code, and say it under your breath."

For a moment, she scanned deeply into the text. Letting up only to blink, the full set of instructions soon became ingrained in every fiber of her being. Emotions swelled within her as she immediately closed the book and placed it gently back in the chest. Taking a deep breath, Maka knew full well what she was about to do. Every possible scenario ran through her mind as to what could happen, but no matter the outcome, the woman knew that there was no going back. She straightened herself and, with solid fists by her side, made her way to he mirror centered in the hallway.

After having read the full text of the page, Maka knew exactly what to do. She sucked in air and blew it hoarsely into the glass, causing fog to wipe across every possible square inch of it. Before it had time to dissipate, she took her finger and drew in little figures into the smudged mirror. Incoherent at first, they soon came to focus as the last lines were drawn. Three numbers that could barely fit in that tiny pane of glass, but she had made it work somehow. 42-42-564.

"-Whenever you want to knock on Death's door." Maka whispered.

At first, nothing. Sounds were nonexistent. Shadows were the only thing that moved anywhere in her house. A minute passed, and soon Maka was beginning to wonder if she had done something wrong. Perhaps the mirror was too small? Or maybe it really was just a wives tale-?

A knocking at the door, however, silenced her thoughts.

She couldn't have spun around faster.

Despite the obvious emotion of dread she should have been feeling, Maka was experiencing the exact opposite. For too long she had been wasting time searching for the Reaper, and now, finally, he was within her grasp. The young woman wasn't about to let him go, and instead seized the opportunity with confidence in her heart. Without missing a beat, she walked up to the door and immediately flung it open with wild eyes. It was time to let him have it. To let him know that _she_ was angry at _him_ for disappearing the way he did. Anger fueled her actions. Passion fueled her heart.

That is, until she caught sight of him. The thought of the man she had sought after for days. The bitterness she had felt towards him for leaving her by herself. All the confusion surrounding Noah's death. It all evaporated from her the moment she saw him. Red eyes she remembered so vividly stared back at her, with a sharpened grin cut deeply into his face. His clothes remained the same as the day she'd met him. One thing, however, was different. His cloak was gone, revealing empty colored hair sticking out from every angle.

His response to her open stare was almost predictable. "Mind if I come in?"

With a heavy heart, Maka found that words couldn't escape past her lips. Nor could she move from her spot. The only thing that did shift were her eyes as they focused on his moonlit locks, and even then they seemed frozen in place. The stranger noticed immediately and gave a deep chuckle, putting his hand on her shoulder as he walked right by her and into the tiny home. She couldn't stop him, and very quickly Maka realized that the tables had turned. The only thing she could do was clutch the doorknob and mutter aloud another verse of the rhyme that had plagued her mind all week.

"Beware the man whose hair is white..." Maka whispered painfully, letting go of the handle as a gust of wind picked up outside.

The air caught the door, sending it creaking to a close in front of her.

* * *


	4. The Introduction

Cotton filled Maka's mouth as she stood there under the archway that led into her living room. The guest whom she had unwittingly allowed into her home sat on a wooden chair at the opposite end, leaning back in it as he stared blankly at her. Filed teeth peaked through as his lips parted, revealing just how sharp and white they really were. Red eyes caught most of her attention though, the bright orbs peering into her through the shadowed portion of the room. They almost took her mind off the fact that ivory locks spiked from every inch of his head, but as he ran a hand through his hair as a grin found its way on his lips, Maka was immediately reminded of it.

"I knew you'd find me. You always were the smartest one in town."

Maka's heart sank just a little at his words. The realization that looking for him was merely a game all along sent shivers down her spine, but she bit her tongue to prevent the verbal abuse that mounted in her throat. At least after all this time he was there, and now that he was, she was not going to ruin it. Instead, the young woman let her mind race with the questions that had been plaguing her for days. They desperately needed answering, and it showed through in her cold, green eyes.

The stranger's small grin quickly faded when he caught sight of the pained expression on his host's face. She seemed hurt, angry, confused, and a whole spectrum of other emotions that he couldn't place, all at the same time. Whatever it was he found in her gaze, it was enough to make him lose that confident air he had to him. Almost as if feeling guilty, he sunk back in his chair ever so slightly and simply stared back at Maka with a serious expression. He knew the time had come to explain everything.

"What happened to Gopher?" Maka asked with hurt eyes and even voice.

A sigh escaped the stranger's lips as he picked himself up the chair. Maka watched warily as her guest made his way to the living room, hands in his pockets as he looked to the ceiling. Almost as if he were trying to find the right words to say, he tilted his head to the side and looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. She couldn't help but to swallow a lump in the back of her throat at his flat expression, a feeling of dread slowly creeping over her. The way he looked, then and there, made it clear to her that he really was the Reaper from the stories. It was the face of someone who was not afraid of death, but of it.

"In this world, you could die at a moment's notice." He muttered through muffled breath. "Who do you think decides whether you live or die?"

Unable to control herself completely, Maka's attempt at a tough exterior was betrayed by her shaking knees. "You?"

Very slowly the man nodded, as if trying to stress his point. Taking a few steps forward, he kept his eyes glued to the woman in front of him as she tried desperately to ease herself. Maka knew he wouldn't hurt her. What he said to her on the night of Lyle's death was proof of that. Still, she couldn't help but tremble at his dark presence, his piercing red eyes digging into her in that ominous way he was so good at doing. The woman sucked in air as he approached ever closer, though still a modest distance from her.

"You know who I am. You know what I am. Lyle Noah, unfortunately, didn't know either about himself." The stranger shook his head bitterly at the thought.

"But what are you?" Maka blurted out, stuck between asking two very important questions. "You're the reaper, right? The one from the stories?"

The man's ominous air slightly lifted as he gave an amused snort. "I'm a Reaper, yeah. It's cute how your town gave me a rhyme."

Another step closer to her, but Maka didn't notice. She was too busy trying to sort through what the man had just said. There really _was_ a reaper, and he was standing right there in her living room. Together. With her. All alone, with no one else to help her if he suddenly realized he didn't want to answer her questions anymore. The thought sent shivers down her spine, but the realization of something completely different scared her even more. What did he mean when he said _a reaper?_

"Does that mean there's more than one of you?" Maka gasped, eyes quickly widening at her own words.

His dark smile widened ever so slightly. "A few others, I guess you could say."

The woman forced a swallow. "Are they here in Loew as well?"

"We don't cross territories. Lyle was the only exception."

Maka froze in place. The implications of what the man had just said were very clear in her mind. And as if realizing his host's immediate shock, the stranger halted his advances towards her and waited patiently for her to recover from his words. It took a moment, however, before Maka was ready to ask the question that the white haired man knew she wanted so desperately to.

"What do you mean he was the only exception?"

The stranger quickly closed the gap between him and the woman in a few long strides. Taken aback by his sudden presence right in front of her, she paced a few steps backwards, only to bump into a chair right behind her. She fell, landing right in the seat of the wooden piece of furniture. With nothing else left to do, she remained sitting as her sharp toothed guest stood inches from her. He leaned in, keeping her from getting up by putting all the weight on his hands as he gripped the arms of the chair. She was stuck.

"I'll answer the rest of your questions, but only if you swear to keep it between us." He leered into her, red eyes commanding.

Maka nodded quickly, both out of fear and anticipation. "Please, just...tell me what happened to Lyle."

The man nodded as well, as if satisfied with her response and plea. He released his hold on the chair and took a few steps back, giving the poor woman enough space to breathe in. Curiously though, his gaze still locked with her own. Maka stared back as well, for no particular reason other than to wonder why he kept looking into her like that. After a moment, he ended up closing his eyes. She figured he knew what she was thinking.

"Three months ago," he began, his voice slightly louder than before. "Lyle Noah became a Reaper under special circumstances. I allowed him to continue living here, though that turned out to be a mistake."

Maka's heart leaped in her chest, her mind racing too fast to process what he said. "How did he become one of you? Gopher was an altar boy! Not some kind of spirit!"

"I can't tell you any of that. All I can say is that when he figured out eating innocent souls makes you stronger, it all went to hell from there."

"Does this have something to do with a Grigori?" the woman asked without thinking, remembering his words from before.

The man's calm eyes suddenly grew very wide. "Shit. I forgot you heard that."

Almost instantly, the mood shifted. Maka could feel the air change as she continued to stare at the reaper in front of her, whom she noticed was no longer confident in his stance. Instead, now he seemed almost...undignified. His back was hunched over just by the slightest of a degree, and his eyes were still very wide from before. The razor sharp teeth that she now associated him with were peeking out teasingly from beneath his lips, and she could have sworn on her life that there was just the slightest hint of drool out of the corner of his mouth.

Again, he leaned into her and put his hands on the chair's arms. This time, however, he came in much closer than before. Completely shocked, Maka remained absolutely still as his hot breathed trickled down towards her neck. Still staring out in front of her, the only view of him the young woman could see was his ruffled white hair as the rest of him hovered mere inches from her skin. Red flushed her cheeks, thinking for one unpleasant moment that he was going to pull something in the privacy of her home. But that theory was quickly shot down when she noticed a pained sigh escape his lips, along with the sound of what sounded like a gulp. She became immediately confused; Was he trying to hold himself back from something?

The growls rumbling from deep within his chest snapped her out of it. "Reapers are individuals who watch over the living and the dead. You with me so far?"

"Yeah," Maka muttered faintly, being the only thing she could say with his breath burning across her skin.

"Well, that means taking people's souls at the end of their life," he shuddered. "And when that happens, there's multiple ways of doing it..."

Finally the man brought his head away from her skin, allowing Maka to roll her shoulder and cover up for the warm spot presently on her neck. He looked up towards the ceiling, giving a forced grin as if trying so desperately to look and remain calm when something was clearly wrong. A very small part of Maka was worried for him, as he looked so pained it was almost disheartening. Mostly though, she just wanted him to step away as far as possible before he could try and get near her again.

"...For example," he continued, still baring his teeth at the roof. "Some put them in a bag for storage. Others release them immediately to the next life..."

The Reaper in front of Maka brought his head back down to face her, and for the first time she got a good look at his eyes. They seemed surprisingly bright, almost excited. His pupils had dilated, and his breath had picked up ever so slightly. In her gut, Maka knew that something about her had made him like this, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what.

"...Others still, such as Lyle Noah and myself included...like to _eat _the souls of those they take."

Maka cringed. She now knew exactly why he was acting they way he was. With a sick stomach and paralyzed muscles, the woman watched as he brought his face inches from her's. Their collected breaths mixing as that excited look in his eyes seemed to grow with each passing second. In her mind, Maka pleaded to be spared the same fate as her once friend Gopher. The image of the boy's lifeless body filled her thoughts as her eyes grew red, filling to the brim with water as she waited desperately to figure out just what the man was planning to do with her.

To her shock and surprise, however, the man did nothing to her. He simply let his head fall from her's, his snow white hair brushing past her lips as he stared at the woman's lap. From his calmer breath and drooping shoulders, Maka figured that somehow he had lost that burst of energy that ran through him, leaving him to crash right above her. Relief swept through her. She'd keep her soul for another day.

"The form Lyle took that night...it was in response to your Grigori soul, Maka." he mumbled from his worn out stance, a hint of exhaustion in his tone.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Maka asked warily, still staring out in front of her as his hair rubbed against her skin.

The man sucked in air tiredly. "Once in a while, a person is born with a special soul. You're one of those people."

Maka felt the Reaper brush past her as he pushed himself off the chair, her personal space returning to her once more. The relief was short lived though. Again she found herself concerned for the man's well being as he stood there in front of her, shoulder's drooping much more noticeable than before. An uncharacteristic bead of sweat hung from his brow, with that pained grin still clear on his lips. Despite the fact he scared her like no other, the woman couldn't help but feel slightly worried for him. For what reason, she couldn't say.

He seemed to collect himself slightly before going on. "Lyle's awareness as a Reaper came slowly. Though when it did, he noticed your powerful soul."

"And that's why he turned into that monster? Because of me?" Maka asked guiltily, regretting ever going to the church in the first place.

The man shook his head. "Yes and no. That was his true form, you just made it come out. Your soul was too tempting."

"What's so special about it as compared to others?" the woman asked timidly, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"Well for one thing, it tastes amazing."

The woman shuddered at the thought of her soul even _having_ a taste, let alone someone like a Reaper enjoying it as a meal. Her guest however quickly reassured her with a smirk and a shake of the head, as if telling her she had nothing to worry about. Straightening his hunched self up, the man grunted as he popped his neck and back into place. Maka realized he was back to his old self again.

"Why is that you didn't attack me then?" Maka asked cautiously, while he was still calm and collected.

The man looked at her, almost apologetically. "Because I have self control. Lyle was too young to keep his hunger in check, and it ended up costing him."

Pieces of the puzzle started coming together in Maka's head, the Reaper's words illuminating bits and pieces of the mystery she was trying to unravel. That night, he had said something about Lyle owing something. After everything that he had told her it was logical to assume that he wanted the boy's soul, the reason obviously being that he was eating innocent souls to get stronger. But that was only one offense she had heard the white haired man say Lyle committed before stealing his life away. The other one was plotting to take the soul of a Grigori, but why was that a crime?

"What else makes my soul special?" she asked adamantly, hands clutching the arms of her chair.

Her guest shook his head. "There's multiple reasons, but mostly because The Grim says Grigori souls are off limits."

Very quickly that mystery of Maka's became much more complicated. She looked at the stranger, with confused eyes that practically begged to know exactly who _The Grim_ was. Almost as if knowing she would, the man gave a small smirk as he reached out his hand for her to grab. Put off by the gesture, the seated woman was apprehensive to take it. It wasn't until a moment passed and she caught sight of his genuine smile that she decided that there was nothing to worry about. His fingers cupped hers, and he gently helped her up to her feet.

They quickly broke each other's grasp. "I won't bore you with details. He's the Reaper who's risen above the others and earned the title of Grim. He's the strongest out of all of us."

"And you listen to him when he tells you something, right?" Maka figured, correctly.

"Right. Which is why I've been watching over you all these years."

The woman's eyes widened the second he finished his sentence. The Reaper, amused, simply continued his smirk as he waited for Maka to yet again collect herself from the information she'd just been entrusted with. This time however, it took her much longer to recover. The man waited patiently as his host stood there, dumbfounded, staring at him with a curious look that made him want to chuckle. He politely bit his tongue and simply placed a hand on her shoulder, noticing that she didn't cringe in the least at his once frightening touch.

Without waiting for her response, he grinned as he continued. "This land is my territory, and because you live here, The Grim entrusted me with watching over you."

"-But why?" Maka stammered, immediately wanting to know the moment he finished his sentence.

"It's your Grigori soul, Maka. It's a hot commodity." the Reaper explained carefully, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "Others would kill to have one."

At first the worry was obvious in her eyes, but Maka found comfort the man's reassuring gaze. "Who would want one?"

"Reapers who don't listen to The Grim. Other Grigories, things like that."

With a tired groan, Maka found herself hunching over in slight defeat. Not caring what went on anymore, she let her head fall against the man's chest like she had the night of Noah's death. And just like last time, he calmly put his arm around her and brought his face up to greet the ceiling. The only thing that crossed the woman's mind was whether or not she could trust the Reaper, what with him salivating at the very thought of eating her essence. She could feel his pulse and hear his heartbeat, and knew that both were pumping faster than normal.

But as his grip on her tightened and she peaked from the top corners of her eyes, Maka's mind was instantly set at ease. His face didn't seem strained like it had before, and his filed teeth weren't bore like a hungry dog ready for dinner. Instead he seemed calm, like how she remembered him when they first met. And with his simple expression, those features which terrified her not even minutes before were suddenly starting to grow on her. The red eyes, his ruffled white hair, and collected true nature all seemed to suit him. He was different, but that didn't seem like a bad thing.

"What's your name?" she managed to ask, her words half muffled against his crumpled coat.

She watched as the Reaper's expression shifted. From plain, it changed a shade of somber. Maka's heart sank when she caught sight of that strange look in his red eyes, as though he was thinking hard about something. His grip on her loosened slightly, making her think that he wanted her step away from him. When she tried to, however, he ended up pulling her in only to hold onto her harder than before.

"Can't say that I have one. The others just call me Eater..." he replied, stony faced.

"-Eater?" Maka repeated, her head still buried in his embrace.

"...as in, _Soul _Eater."

The woman let her eyes fall from his face, instead eyeing the floor in the distant corner of the room. She couldn't help but to feel sad for some reason, probably being that this person who had saved her life literally had no name. Words were powerful, and lack of a name was a terrible weakness for anyone. Without even thinking she started to run through random names in her mind, trying to think of one that would fit him. Her conscious weighed her down, however, as a verse from the child's rhyme kept pounding away at the back of her head._ He wants your soul, he wants your life._

The thought was quickly shot down. Maka couldn't believe it as she stole another look at the Reaper who held onto her so tightly. His expression seemed so rigid, with his eyes looking off into the distance at something that was just out of reach. She didn't know if it was because he had no identity, or if it was something else entirely. All she did know was that there was no way he was dangerous, at least not to her. Maybe deep down he did want to eat her soul, but he certainly didn't want her dead. It was against his job, his orders. But, Maka also concluded, even if he wasn't ordered to, he _still _wouldn't kill her. She could feel it in the way he held onto her, both to comfort her and himself.

"I think," Maka mumbled, snapping the Reaper's attention back to her. "From now on, I'll call you Soul."


	5. The Outsider

The librarian simply smiled at the man as he placed a large stack of books atop her checkout counter. She wasn't at all surprised at his being there, in fact, she almost expected it. Still, out of politeness and the responsibility of her job, she greeted him warmly before starting to sift through the large collection of texts. Knowing full well of his peering gaze as she kept her eyes glued down at the books in front of her, Maka pretended not to notice. That of course only encouraged the man's ever growing smirk as she continued with her work, his airy voice soon cutting through the silence.

"Have any plans for tonight, Maka?" he cooed, resting his arm on the counter top.

"Not that I know of, Hiro." She glanced up at him, a book way too big for him grasped firmly in her hands. "Although I'm sure you do."

A devious smile hinted on the blonde man's face. "Only if it involves the two of us."

Yet again Maka smiled, though only out of amusement. She returned her attention back to the inhuman amount of books he had brought before her, which were obviously just there to give him enough time to work his moves on her. For the third time that week, he had come in and rented out over half her collection. She didn't really mind, given that few in Loew were considered scholars, but his advancements had gone in vain each time. Every chance he made for himself, the newcomer to town made a pass at her. After three days of trying, Maka had to admit he was persistent. Even now, as she tried to make her rejection painfully obvious, he couldn't help himself but to lean in towards her and stick his face within a few feet from her's.

"You know," he prodded, looking at her with hinting eyes. "It's five o'clock. You can close up shop early, and I promise we could-"

_"-Excuse me ma'am. I was wondering if you could help me with something."_

Both Maka and Hiro turned their heads to find out who on earth could be in that library besides them. When a person emerged from out behind a book case, the librarian couldn't help but to smile at who it was. Her customer, on the other hand, tried in vain to hide a sour face as the man made his way over to the two of them and placed a single book on the counter top next to Hiro's. His attention focused solely on Maka, the book aficionado across from her went completely unnoticed by him. The newcomer leaned his elbow atop the woman's check out desk. His signature grin drew wide on his lips.

"Mind if I check out a book?" he asked innocently, catching Maka's emerald eyes as she continued to smile at him.

"Of course not," the librarian replied professionally, picking his book up immediately. "Since you have less to check out, I'll handle you first."

His grin waning, the man raised his brows in acknowledgement. Maka in turn looked at the book, the title catching her eye as she left her desk for a moment to go do something quickly. The two men were left there standing together as they watched her leave, one of them quickly feeling awkward at the presence of the other. Hiro shifted in place, knowing full well who the other man was as he'd seen him around town and the other times he'd entered the library. This other man simply turned to look at him, a cool and calm look on his face as he sized up the blonde haired flirt.

"Ah, how you doing Soul?" Hiro feigned a smile, one which could very easily be seen through.

The man hardly even blinked. "Good, Hiro. I see you're still reading up a storm."

"Well, there's a lot of good stuff you can find here." Hiro replied, trying to strike mild conversation.

"Don't I know it." Soul sneered in return, causing the blonde haired man in front of him to immediately retract his olive branch.

Maka arrived moments later with the book she'd left with, a bookmark sticking out from the middle of the binding. She handed it to Soul, who shoved it in his coat pocket without so much as sparing it a single glance. He moved out of the way, allowing Hiro to return to the front along with the librarian. Silently, the two exchanged passing looks. The flirt sneered, as if in victory of winning his prize in the end. Soul merely stared at him with a flat expression, not at all put off by the events taking place in front of him.

Moving to the side of the desk, Soul allowed Hiro to continue his conversation with Maka as she struggled to ring up the large amount of books that had gone unchecked. His face was blank, almost uninterested, as the blonde man kept up with his unceasing advances on the librarian. However, after having put up with his annoying tone and overconfident attitude for longer than he liked, Soul gave a quiet sigh to himself as he decided to put an end to the pathetic display once and for all.

"-Hey Maka," he piped, intentionally interrupting Hiro as he captured the woman's attention. "I think I left my cloak at your place last night."

The man across from Maka gave a snort, one which went unnoticed by the woman. "I hardly think that you of all people would-"

"-I know you did, Soul," she replied flatly, cutting off her suitor as he gawked, dumbfounded. "Try to pick up after yourself next time, would you?"

"Can't make any promises, Maka. Seems like I _always _lose a piece of clothing when I'm over there."

Hiro bit his tongue, trying to keep his cool even in the face of that smug look in Soul's eyes. It gnawed at him just how easily he carried himself, as if the guy had all of Loew in the palm of his hand. The flirt could only watch with an obvious glare as the other man picked himself off the desk and walked around it to stand by Maka. He leaned in towards her, making sure to look the other way as he whispered something into her ear. To Hiro's utter disappointment, the beauty in front of him laughed at whatever he told her, whispering something back to him in secret.

Very quickly he realized that he was fighting a losing battle. As the man standing by the woman he wanted turned to face him, that damned grin of his was there as well. Maka stood by him, smiling innocently as she started back on working with the pile of books before her. Hiro bitterly looked at Soul, then at Maka, then at the pile of books on the desk. Fed up with all of it, the flirt forcefully shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way out the door next to him. Not even waiting for his books, he let the door slam shut as he left. Soul couldn't help but to sneer in satisfaction.

"Mission accomplished," he snickered, sliding on top of the desk as he faced Maka.

The woman shook her head, though an obvious smile still lingered on her lips. "You're an ass."

"At least I'm not a pig." Soul snorted, removing the book Maka had given him from his coat. "The twerp made me sick."

"So naturally you made him believe we slept together?" the librarian mused flatly.

The man simply opened his book and flicked the page. "Pretty much."

Maka rolled her eyes, taking it upon herself to pick up the rather large stack of books on her own and carry them throughout the library, putting them all back in their proper places. She threw a glance over her back as she went along, the image of Soul's body hunched over the children's book in his hands causing her to fight back laughter. He had bluntly whispered his disdain for Hiro, causing her giggles from before. Coupled with the fact the title of the story he'd chosen was _The Pig Farmer,_ and the young woman couldn't contain herself as she placed a book on the shelf.

"You know that wasn't very nice, Soul!" Maka called out to him from across the room, still fighting laughter.

The sound of a page turning filled the air. "I'm not here to be friendly, I'm here to protect you."

"But who's going to protect me from _you?_" she parried with a smile on her face.

A chuckle rang throughout her library. "No one. That's the fun part."

Maka shook her head. One full week of him in her life, and it felt like he had always been there. It all seemed so natural that she didn't question it when he appeared to her, even during the daytime when his features were so _different._ The snow white of his hair always disappeared in the sunlight, as if being washed out by the sea of yellow. His bright, red eyes became dull and colorless like the night they'd met, though the other townsfolk just passed him off as being another stranger from a far away land.

The woman threw another look the Reaper's way, his dull expression focused solely on the simple children's book dangling from his hands. The one feature of his that remained the same no matter were hidden with a clamped jaw, but Maka knew they were still there. Everyone did. He had drawn much attention the first day people had seen him with her, as whenever he talked, sharp teeth made everyone gaze uncomfortably at him. Thankfully, Soul didn't talk to others much, only to her in bulk, and usually in the safety of her home at night. It was the one time during the day where she could continue to ask her questions, and also the one time where, strangely, his features became ghostly. Only around her, and only when the sunset...

"You're pretty quiet back there." Soul drawled out from the front, amusing himself with The Pig Farmer's antics.

Maka closed her eyes, knowing full well not to let him know she was thinking of him. "Just wondering where to put this novel."

"You're a bad liar, Maka," he replied simply, the sound of a book closing at his comment.

Maka's expression fell flat immediately, grimacing at the thought of the man whom she'd only known a week already getting inside her head. Begrudgingly, she took the last bit of books she left and quickly walked around the library. Soul remained seated, not so much lifting a finger as the blonde librarian finished the last of her arduous work. He smirked when she emerged from behind the bookcases a few minutes later, huffing at the lack of support she'd received from him. With neither saying a word, the man gave a shrug as Maka pulled up a chair and sat down firmly. She purposely didn't offer Soul one.

"I take it something's bothering you?" he asked smartly, crossing his arms in front of him.

Maka shot him a threatening look. "I walk with twenty books in my hand, with no offer to help, and you ask if something's bothering me?"

"You didn't complain about that in the beginning," Soul observed knowingly, causing Maka to purse her lips in annoyance. "You're just pissed I can read you like a book."

"_I'm_ not! And _you _most certainly can't!" the woman ground out adamantly, though a hue of red flushed across her face.

The Reaper tilted his head to the side, a grin making its way across his lips. "You're cute when you're angry, you know that?"

Unable to keep her composure, the woman went on impulse and grabbed the nearest thing she had to her. A thick, hardcover novel gripped tightly in her hand, Maka swung it faster than Soul had time to blink. Before he knew it, the man was clutching his forehead after having the book slam deeply into his skull. He howled in pain, reeling at the blow as Maka looked on with a smug look of satisfaction.

Soul growled as he rubbed the obvious red bump on his head. "The _fuck _did you do that for?"

"To be cute, I suppose." Maka chimed, still smiling at his apparent agony.

"It's only cute when I'm not being pummeled to death!" the Reaper spat, glaring at her. "Keep it up, and I really _will_ eat your soul!"

At first, Maka merely shrugged off his comment. His bitter scowl as he rubbed his sore spot assured her that he hadn't meant what he said. However, the words themselves started to gnaw at her psyche. Her smile faded quickly, followed by a wary look at his sharp teeth as he cursed her under his breath. She couldn't help but shiver at the sight of his psuedo fangs, their tips threatening her very soul and being. The growing fear inside her must have become obvious, because Soul quickly stopped his piteous muttering and stared at the woman in front of him.

While not paying full attention, Maka still noticed for the first time a frown make its way on her new found friend's face. It was so uncharacteristic of the snide man whom she was just discovering that it caught her off guard, his eyes falling to her's as they showed the regret mounting inside him. The sight made her lose some of that fear inside her as she focused all her attention on him. Soul, in turn, did the same.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quietly, brows furrowed in thought.

"Don't be." Maka replied in an equally hushed tone. "I know you didn't mean it."

Soul scowled bitterly at the woman's words. "That doesn't make it okay! I'm not here to terrorize you!"

Maka smiled faintly, slightly touched by the man's remorse. "Trust me, Soul. You don't."

"Then tell me what the hell was that just-!"

Soul trailed off from his words, leaving the young woman sitting in front of him to wonder just what exactly was wrong. She tilted her head slightly to the side, trying to see into his averted gaze. It seemed so distant, like he was looking at some far off thing that she couldn't. Worried, Maka stood up from her chair and walked towards him, hoping that whatever it was didn't involve her making him act that way. The thought of her Grigori soul causing him to act up crossed her mind, and she cautiously put her hand on his shoulder to give him a gentle shove.

"Soul? What's wrong?" Maka asked warily, her heart continually sinking at his strange state.

The man finally blinked for the first time, shaking his head with a slight cringe. "Looks like we've got company, Maka."

Confused, the young woman looked to Soul for answers. Without a word, the man obliged by poking his finger to her chest, as if pointing to something inside her. It took her only a moment before she realized what he could possibly be getting at, and the idea terrified her like no other. The Reaper guard of her's sucked in air through his filed teeth, causing the air to hiss as a dark grin plastered to his face.

"There's a Reaper in my territory."

"What does that mean?" Maka whispered, her eyes wide with fright.

"It _means,_" he spoke grimly, letting himself slide off the counter top. "They need to leave. Now."

The blonde woman bit her lower lip anxiously at the almost bloodthirsty look in her friend's eyes. "Are they here for me?"

No response came from the Reaper as he immediately made his way for the door. Maka watched for a moment as he threw it open, only to start chasing after him when she realized that he was already starting to leave without her. She shouted at him to stop, the man surprising her by halting almost obediently in the doorway at her call. He didn't look at her as she approached, however, only giving a tired sigh that seemed to be directed specifically at her.

"Reapers cross paths frequently," he explained without Maka's prompting. "They're allowed to, but only for short periods of time."

"That doesn't answer my question, Soul! Are they here for my Grigori soul?" Maka repeated desperately.

Soul gave another sigh, this time out of annoyance. "That's what I'm going to find out."

The woman's cheeks puffed in hostility. "You're an ass, you know that?"

"Yeah, I remember the first time you said it."

Maka fumed as Soul immediately left the library of her's and let the door close behind him, causing the bells atop the corner to jingle softly. Angrily, and with little time to think too much on the subject, she threw a quick glance to the bookshelves and stacks around her. Everything was clean and tidy, with no obvious messes to be seen anywhere. The clock on the wall next to her desk read six-thirty, meaning she would have to close up shop in thirty minutes anyway. Light was quickly fading fast, and without the candelabras lit, the library was quickly becoming eerily dark.

The decision coming to her without much delay, Maka fished the keys out of her pocket as she quickly made her way outside. Making sure to lock the library closed for the night, the woman immediately rushed towards the impatient Soul, who was already at the far corner of the street. In her head as she ran, Maka couldn't help but to berate herself at the stupid decision she was making. Running towards danger with the possibility of having her soul taken away, and the only thing to show for it was her blind faith in a man she'd only known for a _week._

"You're actually following me? I didn't expect you to come." Soul gaped, genuinely surprised as Maka came galloping next to him.

"Cut the crap, Soul. You're not getting rid of me that easily!" Maka growled, shooting him a dirty look.

The sun had waned enough to where the woman could see the faint return of the Reaper snowy white hair, his eyes regaining red color as the moon peaked out ever so slightly from the yellow ball in the sky's shadow. The scene would have been much more surreal for Maka, had the man next to her not gotten so good at getting on her nerves. However, without thinking, she found herself reaching for his hand as they made their way through the ancient streets of Loew. Soul, amused, found her fingers clutching his own tightly as he led the way to their destination.

"I'm only doing this because when it gets darker, I don't want to be tripping over myself." Maka said flatly, followed by silence between them both.

Soul said nothing at her remark. For once, The White Haired Reaper was at a loss for words.

* * *


	6. The Night Stalker

With the moonlight casting ghostly shadows along the darkened ground and the wind rustling up long dead leaves in the Autumn night, Maka couldn't help but to feel thankful after having grasped Soul's hand some twenty minutes before. She was never the type to scare, far from it, but with the very real possibility of someone vying to take her soul, Maka was forced to find comfort in the Reaper as the two made their way deeper into the forests surrounding the outskirts of Loew. His red eyes seemed to see perfectly well in the dark, as she noticed when he tugged her away from a fallen tree directly in their path.

"You need to watch out!" he growled, tossing the woman a look over his shoulder.

Maka scowled, struggling to keep up with his quickening pace. "I can't see anything, Soul! It's way too dark!"

"Then you should have stayed home," Soul replied flatly, returning his attention forward. "Things will only get more dangerous from here on out."

From behind him, Maka gave her terse friend a bitter look. Ever since they'd emerged out from the gates of the small town, he'd become more on edge. At every crack of a twig or rustle of leaf, she noticed him subtly turn his head to the direction of the noise to investigate its source. On the one hand, it certainly made her feel safer being in his presence. That intimidating look of his also did wonders for her morale, as she quickly found herself much less frightened than in the beginning when he had first told her of an intruder on his territory. The only downside to all of this, of course, was the sudden harshness in his tone.

Realizing it was just him doing his job however, Maka let Soul's attitude slide for the moment as they continued their trek to the location of the other Reaper. The wind continued to blow falling leaves along their path, giving the forest an otherworldly feel that made the woman think twice before looking deeper into the brush. Her Reaper guard continued his steady pace, dragging her along an arms length apart as she struggled to keep up. Maka became distressed as time went on, her feet seeming to trip over themselves far more frequently than before. After a certain point and what seemed like the fifth time of her stumbling, the woman quickly made her feelings known when she threw all her weight into a powerful tug on Soul's arm. When he stumbled backwards, the man finally halted his march.

"Soul, please! Can't we let up for just a second? It's getting harder and harder to see!" she pleaded.

The Reaper shook his head, turning around to face the woman he was charged to protect. "I can see just fine. We'll make it in no time."

"But _I _can't!" Maka ground out, trying to make her scorn as apparent as possible. "And you can't just keep dragging me around, I'll only slow you down!"

"Well, then maybe I should just throw you over my shoulders?" he snorted, grinning at the red that strung across the woman's cheeks.

Even in the unrelenting darkness, Maka couldn't hide the blush deepening in her face. "I swear to god, Soul! If you do-!"

For the first time since they'd left the library, the woman heard Soul chuckle in his usually aloof way. Though still frazzled by his words, she sighed in relief as the man's gruff exterior soon gave way to hunched over shoulders and a calm demeanor. Almost as if in confirmation, he reached for the back of his head and scratched his scalp, turning his head away while at the same time still eyeing her carefully.

"I guess we can stop for a minute or two," he said simply, talking as though uninterested in whether they did or not.

Though partly annoyed at his feigning ignorance, Maka took full advantage of the opportunity by letting herself plop down on the grassy floor. Her knees closed in front of her in a ladylike fashion, though only to prevent her friend from catching a glimpse up her simple skirt. Soul, following suit, sat himself on the ground and crossed his legs and arms. He continued to stare at the woman in front of him, though in the pitch dark night she was hardly self conscious. On the contrary, even though they would appear terrifying to the average person, Maka couldn't help but find comfort in his blood red eyes and moonlit hair. Both cut through the shadows and gave her something to focus on in an otherwise mind numbingly frightful situation.

In fact, his features caused her so much interest that the woman couldn't help but to stare at him. She knew he could tell, what with the way his smirk never left his face, but her curiosity won out over her need for politeness. That being said, it came as no real surprise to either of them when after a minute of watching in silence, Maka finally asked the question that both knew would be asked sooner or later.

"Soul?" she started awkwardly, continuing when she caught his attention. "I was just...wondering why your hair and eyes change?"

The Reaper's smirk grew slightly larger. "Regular people can't see me like you can. They aren't strong enough."

"So, what? Am I strong enough to?" Maka asked, trying to sort through his reasoning.

"Your Grigori soul is, but only when night falls." the man replied simply.

The woman shook her head. "You lost me again, Soul."

Above the sounds of rustling trees, Maka could make out the faint sound of the Reaper sighing as he rose back up to his feet. At first annoyed at the thought of him brushing off the rest of her question, she became surprised when he walked over and took a knee right in front of her. He took his finger and again poked her in the chest like he had in the library, motioning for her to look up into the sky. She obliged, and gazed up to see a bright crescent moon only slightly obstructed by clouds. Scattered stars twinkled all around it, but Maka knew it was the yellow rock in the sky that he was referring to.

Soul's flat expression contradicted his amused tone. "The moon is what Resonates with you, Maka. It's what gives your soul extra kick."

"Resonate?" the woman asked blankly, not at all understanding the explanation. "What does that mean?"

"Grigori souls take their power from a certain source. They're pretty fickle, so whatever that source is changes from person to person."

Slowly, it began making sense to Maka. The moon is apparently what drove her soul, ergo, it was only really strong at night. She figured that it explained how Soul's red eyes went unnoticed by Mr. Sid the night he'd visited them, as the grocer didn't have the ability to see him. Or how his features changed subtly as time went on, being that the moon took a while to reach fully into the sky.

"So to Resonate means to share power?" the scholar deduced, earning a grin from her Reaper friend.

"Bingo, bookworm," he sneered, causing the woman to roll her eyes in annoyance.

At least that was one part of the puzzle to cross off her list, though the woman knew there were still so many questions that needed answering. Despite Soul being a few feet from her, Maka made no attempt to hide the wary slink of her shoulders as the realization began to sink in. She still had no idea why Reapers wanted her soul in the first place, nor had the similarly named man made a single attempt to explain it to her. All he ever did was beat around the subject as she questioned him at her house, their conversations usually sliding into superfluous topics such as how her day had went, etc.

Soul could tell from the shift in her posture that Maka was bothered by something. Guessing it had to do with more of her inquiries, the red eyed man quietly picked himself off the ground and held out his hand for the woman to take. It took her a moment to notice, but when Maka did she obliged and let him help her up to her feet. They dusted each other off under the low howl of the wind, their light source being cut off quickly by a cloud passing over the moon. The Reaper took it upon himself to grasp the woman's shoulders as he forced a comforting grin, Maka being unable to fight back a weak smile in return.

"I know you're the type who wants answers to everything, but I promise they'll come later."

"But how much later, Soul? I don't think it can wait." Maka replied tiredly.

The man shook his head. "We need to find the Reaper first, Maka..."

Trailing off again, the Reaper tossed a glance over his shoulder at the deep woods in front of Maka. Obviously suddenly concerned about finding the intruder, the woman felt as though he knew exactly where their target was. And, unfortunately, that whoever it was seemed to be very close. In unspoken words, Soul made it clear by the way he spun around that something was coming near them. Without hesitation Maka found herself creeping up behind his back, the Reaper guard leaning backwards to whisper into her ear.

"...whatever happens, you stay right there. Don't you dare leave my side." he ordered.

Unable to stop shaking, and with little light to see anything, the young woman nodded almost immediately. In her head, she cursed this growing fear inside of her. It felt as though she were weighing him down, forcing him to care for her well being instead of his own. The piteous thought was quickly tossed aside, however, when she caught sight of the one thing about him that still gave her chills. From Soul's outstretched arm, a flash of light streamed down towards his hand. It went from abstract to ethereal in under a second, changing from light to the solid form of a silver handled scythe in his grasp. Just as in the church, Maka marveled at the feeling it gave off, it's deep red blade cutting the air at every flick of his wrist.

The woman had little time to gawk, though. She knew that by Soul summoning his weapon, he was confirming her suspicions of the intruding Reaper being close by. Without trying to be a burden, Maka kept close by. Her shaking had ceased, feeling much more protected than before, and she decided to at least try and help in some small way. She scanned the forest in front of her and Soul, hoping to find a clue as to the whereabouts of their target. Despite the Autumn gusts and crackling of tree limbs, it wasn't long until the woman noticed something wandering through the brush heading directly towards them. Maka's heart leaped at the discovery, sending her clamoring to tell her guardian where the Reaper was.

Soul, however, beat her to the punch. "The bastard's right there. Who the hell does he think he is, walking up to us like that?"

Again, before Maka could respond, another voice cut her off. _"Your senses are dull, Eater. You should at least know that I'm a woman by now!"_

The blonde haired librarian noticed a fleeting cringe in her friend's stance. It was sudden, though noticeable enough to where his scythe was lowered about a degree. Perhaps it was due to the realization of the other Reaper being a woman, or maybe the fact that she referenced him by his Reaper name, Eater. Unfortunately, there was no time to wonder about such things. Both Soul and Maka watched as the other woman made her way closer to them, finally emerging completely from the brush into the small clearing where they could try to get a decent look at her.

There was nothing to see. The woman's form was completely encased in black, from her head to her toes. The only visible things on her body were the slits in her dark mask to see through, and the symbol over her right breast which Maka couldn't make out in the night. Soul's posture stiffened, his blade clutched tightly in his hands as he got a good look at the intruding Reaper. Though she was sure he couldn't see the woman much better, Maka knew that he probably recognized her. The way his form became wary at her presence almost proved that.

"State your business, and get the hell out of my territory!" Soul growled, bringing his scythe to face the other Reaper.

The other woman clasped her hands together in front of her. "Why are you suddenly so coarse with me, Eater?"

"I go by Soul now!" he spat, tossing a glance to Maka for a brief moment. "And you know dam well why I'm coarse! I have to be!"

The intruding Reaper gave him no response. Instead, she began taking a few steps towards the pair as they watched warily from afar. Maka's calm quickly started to waver as the distance between them closed more and more, reaching a point where she seriously considered pressing up against Soul for protection. Thankfully, the red eyed man shouted for the other woman to stop before that line was crossed. The intruder obeyed, albeit it with a certain quality to her halt. Almost as if she were slightly hurt by the way he talked to her.

"You certainly take your job very seriously, _Soul. _In fact, I think it's gotten in the way of your reports?"

"I haven't forgotten about The Grim, if that's what you're implying." Soul huffed, almost annoyed.

"I hope not!" the woman chirped. "Especially with that incident involving Lyle Noah!"

Maka reeled at the mention of her once friend's name, unable to comprehend how a complete stranger knew of his death and could talk about it so offhandedly. Very quickly, anger started to build up in the pit of her stomach. She emerged from behind Soul, surprising both Reapers by coming up next to him with fists curled and chest puffed up. The other woman simply watched, fascinated, as Maka threatened her.

"How do you know about Lyle?" she growled, eyeing the Reaper menacingly. "Don't you dare talk about him!"

The female Reaper tilted her head, growing ever more interested. "Eater, is this Maka Albarn?"

Soul's eyes widened at the inquiry. He flashed a terrifying look to Maka, which she noticed out of the corner of her eye, telling her silently to get back behind him. Realizing his concern she listened, but not before giving a look of her own to the other woman as she watched her retreat back. The white haired Reaper took a heavy breath out of anger and stress. Begrudgingly, Maka realized the situation was quickly not turning out the way he wanted it to. And, she ended up admitting to herself, that her sudden outburst had only added to his stack of problems.

"I told you, my name is Soul now." he ground out, still staring at the woman carefully.

Again the other Reaper clasped her hands together, almost respectfully. "Why the sudden change?"

"Guess my last name wasn't cool enough." the man grinned darkly, trying desperately to avoid the question.

"Honestly, you've been acting so strangely this past week. Does this have something to do with the girl?" the woman replied gingerly.

Though he tried to hide it, Maka could sense Soul's body stiffen at the implications. "I'll report to The Grim in the morning. So you can get the hell off my territory."

The blonde woman noticed even in the dark as the intruding Reaper shook her head. A heavy sigh made it through the veiled face, rising even above the nighttime breeze in volume. Soul flinched at the gesture, surprising Maka by reaching around and bringing her in closer towards him. Her heart started to beat faster, knowing something very wrong was about to happen. She held her breath as the female Reaper crouched on the ground, like an animal ready to pounce. Her posture became stiff and the otherwise calm atmosphere around her immediately grew thick with the feeling of bloodlust.

"Unfortunately, The Grim isn't happy with you at the moment, Eater. He sent me to make that clear to you."

Without warning, Soul broke his stance and charged forward at the woman. Maka watched in shock as he left her alone, his scythe whistling through the air as he lunged at the Reaper with terrifying speed and efficiency. Moonlight glinted along the guardian's steel as he threw his weight into a split-second slash meant solely for the head of his target. The woman, undeterred, surprised both Reaper and Grigori alike as she simply remained crouched in her position without so much as a fight. The blade came slashing through her with barely any resistance, causing Maka to avert her eyes as her body fell backwards in two separate pieces. Soul stumbled as his scythe continued forward, expecting more substance to slow him down.

That split second was all it took. With the blonde haired woman still closing her eyes and the white haired Reaper still recoiling from his blow, neither had enough time to react as the unmistakable image of the intruder appeared in front of Maka. Soul had barely placed his foot on the ground to recover when her shrill call sent him spinning around to see what was wrong. To his utter horror, Maka stood absolutely still as the dark outline of the female Reaper crouched down in front of her, a stubby sword sticking out towards the blonde woman's throat. The poor girl sucked in air as the sharp tip of the blade flirted with her wind pipe, causing Soul's heart to both sink and fill with the deepest feelings of rage.

"Why are you doing this!" Maka choked, tears noticeable even in darkness. "Who the hell are you!"

Silently, the female Reaper rose from the ground, her blade still fixed on the young woman's neck. Soul bit his tongue to fight back the terrible words mounting inside him, fearing that whatever he said might coax the intruder into plunging her blade into Maka's flesh. Instead, with nothing else to do, he watched with pure hatred as the masked woman positioned herself behind Maka. She threw her arm around the blonde, still skillfully holding the sword a hair's width from her soft skin. The stars and moon gave only enough light to see into the Reaper's deep, indigo eyes. Maka noticed in terror just how calm they were, even within moments from killing someone in cold blood. The sweet voice that soon followed sent water cascading down the woman's cheeks, it's perversely soothing tone almost too impossible to believe.

"I am the Night Stalker, Nakatsukasa Tsubaki. My apologies, but I believe I'll be taking your soul tonight."

* * *


	7. The Promise

Through the gusting wind and flying leaves, Soul eyed the Night Stalker bitterly as she kept her hold on Maka. The female Reaper didn't let up on her grip, even after standing motionless for an agonizing few minutes. Maka was forced to remain in her uncomfortable position for what seemed like an eternity, her legs buckling underneath her weight as her back arched. Cold steel flirted dangerously with the woman's neck, the blade's sharp tip teasing her skin as it brushed against her every so often. So close was it in fact that Maka didn't say a word, too afraid that sucking in air would cause the assassin known as Tsubaki to accidentally slice her open. Soul feared the same thing, and silently he pleaded for her to remain absolutely still.

She could see it in his eyes. Fighting back tears, the young blonde caught the sight of her protector's forlorn. Even in pitch dark, Maka watched the man's red eyes twist in the moonlight as he gripped the scythe in his hands tightly. Though suddenly rattled by Tsubaki for no apparent reason, she wouldn't let their shared gaze falter as they continued their stares. Meant only for Maka, Soul nodded grimly to her under the cover of darkness. She realized her captor probably noticed as well, but the woman didn't care. It was his way of saying he was going to fix everything. He was going to save her.

Despite the Reaper's silent warning, however, she couldn't fight back her plea. "Soul..."

"Maka..." he replied hoarsely, slowly bringing his scythe up towards the two women. "...Don't you dare move."

Tsubaki tightened her grip around Maka's stomach suddenly, causing the woman to yelp as the blade suddenly caught her smooth skin when she shifted. Her neck opened ever so slightly, leaving behind a shallow cut that barely drew blood. Despite the superficial wound however, Soul immediately lost his wary calm at the sight. An inhuman, almost beastly growl rumbled from his chest as his eyes flashed dark with blood lust. Maka's eyes widened at the terrifying sight of him disappearing into the dark, both women left standing there at the sudden disappearance of the white haired Reaper.

"What happened to him...?" Maka whispered aloud, still frozen by Tsubaki's grasp.

"He took the bait," the Night Stalker replied coolly, for some reason easing up on her grip. "Now let's see what he does."

The wind picked up yet again, this time rustling the trees to a point where the entire night air was filled with the sounds of shaking leaves. Maka's heart skipped constantly at the feverish thought of what exactly Soul was going to do. Tsubaki too seemed a bit on edge, the Reaper's collected presence growing slightly stiff as the countless seconds past of her enemy's absence. Under the silver moonlight, they scanned the brush and woods in tense anticipation for what was about to occur. Maka could feel it in the pit of her stomach that the white Reaper was eyeing her. Somewhere, in the darkness, he was waiting to strike.

Then the hiss of screeching metal filled their ears. It came unexpectedly as the gusts died down and the air became calm, leaving both Tsubaki and Maka to throw their heads around as the sound drew closer and closer. In an instant, the Night Stalker spun with Maka in tow. The young woman was rattled again as she was dragged into a twirl, forced to watch as the blurry image of Soul falling towards them shifted into her view. Underneath Tsubaki's veiled mask she could hear the Reaper give a hollow breath as shades of white and red came flying closer, Soul himself remaining silent as his scythe let out it's bone chilling call.

"You can't attack us, Eater!" Tsubaki called out, making sure to hold Maka directly in front of her. "If you slash, you're going to hit Ms. Albarn as well-!"

Silence. Bitter silence as the shaft of Soul's scythe collided with Tsubaki's face like a metal pole being hammered into the ground. Maka reeled as the force came within inches of her face, hair thrown out in all directions as the Night Stalker immediately released her vice-like grip. She watched with open eyes as the blade against her throat was flung away by the attack, brushing against her nose as it flew off somewhere into the distance. Tsubaki was sent fumbling backwards, skidding along the ground as she landed with the full brunt of the assault against her. That only left Soul to crouch on the ground where the Night Stalker had once been, still holding the butt of his scythe like a spear as he watched the scene play out with menacing red eyes.

Still rattled, Maka was left standing there to stare off into space, trying to sort through what had just happened. She snapped out of it when another arm wrapped itself around her waist, thinking for a moment it was her would-be killer again. When another body crashed against her however, Maka could tell from the way he held her that it was Soul. The Reaper's side brushed against her back, his arm holding on so tight that it almost hurt. Despite that, the young woman couldn't help but to clutch his hand as it grasped her stomach protectively. Soul in turn leaned in, his breath weary against her left ear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, his grip tightening around the right-side-up scythe.

Maka could feel her eyes start to well. "Don't Soul...it's not your fault."

Even though she couldn't see, Maka knew the Reaper was shaking his head at her comment. She could feel it as he placed his forehead against the nape of her neck, soft white hair rubbing against her skin. Without words he told her of his bitter thoughts, thinking it was his fault she was captured in the first place. Unable to turn around because of his tight grip, Maka was forced to stand there and accept the unspoken apology. She eyed the floor, almost in a trance-like state as his breath ran down the entire top half of her back.

Soul's next words were quiet, but firm. "It won't ever happen again. I promise."

"I know," she replied absently, almost at a loss for words.

"Just stay right here. I'll handle the rest."

Maka nodded without hesitation. Her heart sank slightly as Soul's comforting arm snaked itself away from her hold, but she knew it was for good reason. Already, the woman could hear the faint shuffling of Tsubaki as she picked herself off the ground. Soul quickly shifted back into his tense posture, sharpened teeth peaking through his lips to give him the appearance of a dog defending his territory. Maka stood close to him, watching intently as the Night Stalker rose to her feet against the backdrop of a crescent moon. The Reaper's black garb made her body disappear, save for those bright indigo eyes.

"I know The Grim wouldn't send someone to kill a Grigori!" Soul barked, muscles tightening in preparation to strike again. "So just what the hell are you here for!"

Tsubaki tilted her head to the side. "Very smart hitting me with the butt of your weapon, Eater. You spared Ms. Albarn being sliced in half."

"Answer the question, dammit!" he ordered adamantly, almost fighting back the urge to try and rush at her again.

"If you fight me..." the Night Stalker replied exceedingly calmly. "...Then I'll tell you _everything_."

A dark sneer marred Soul's usually cool face. "With pleasure."

Quicker than lightning, Tsubaki threw up her hand and held out her palm. A bolt of dark light flashed from her arm downwards, resulting in a clump of energy that soon fixed itself into the shape of another sharp blade. Maka's chest tightened as the killing intent returned in the female Reaper's eyes, matching Soul's own red ones as the two stared at each other deathly. Under the howl of another gust of wind, she almost expected it as the two fighters disappeared into the cover of the night. No sounds were left behind. No clues as to their existence anywhere in sight. Only the residual feel of Soul's arm around her let the woman know she wasn't really alone in the clearing. For a moment though, even that seemed to give way to the thought of being the only one there.

Until the pangs of metal striking against itself suddenly rang out.

It was random at first, the sounds being few and far between. But as seconds past and Maka threw her head in every direction to try and catch a glimpse of a source, the sounds became louder and more frequent. The speed picked up, sending her heart thumping as the pangs started to occur one right after the other. Unable to see anything, Maka quickly shrunk in her spot. Fear mounted inside of her from not being able to tell where the attacks were coming from, let alone if they were near her or not. In her head, she kept trying to reassure herself that Soul wouldn't let anything happen to her.

Then, after moments of not being able to see anything, they appeared. Like a gunshot they came out of nowhere, suddenly materializing at the same time their blades smashed into each other full force. Maka stood, mouth agape, as Soul and Tsubaki slashed with everything they had not even twenty feet away from her. The look in their eyes as they fought couldn't even be called human, with levels of both calm and killing intent never before seen in any mortal before them. Their sudden halt as their blades stopped each other made Maka jump, completely at a loss for how to respond as both Reapers glared into the other's eyes. Soul's scythe shook as it wrestled with Tsubaki's short blade for control, neither letting up for any reason.

"Why are you here!" Soul hissed, putting his all into the weapon.

Tsubaki's indigo eyes flashed as she struggled with her own blade. "You'll know soon enough!"

At the same time, both kicked off each other and retreated for a moment to catch their breaths. Soul sucked in air, his shoulders rising and falling by the sheer amount he drew into his lungs. Tsubaki remained much less affected, only a few steady pants making it past her veiled lips. Both, Maka could tell from her viewing area, were obviously tired. Such supernatural displays of strength must have their limits, she thought to herself. Still, the young woman couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. Those two had just disappeared to God knows where, only to return and continue their epic battle in front of her-!

"-Ms. Albarn, let me ask you a question."

Maka was wrenched back into reality. She threw her attention at the only person who called her Ms. Albarn. Tsubaki looked back at her, ignoring Soul's evil glare as she gave Maka her full attention. Warily, the young woman wondered if she should even pay attention to the Reaper in the first place. Before she could convince herself otherwise however, the Night Stalker went ahead with her question.

"Do you trust this Reaper with your life?" Tsubaki asked carefully, noticing Maka's shocked expression. "Or do you fear for your soul in his presence?"

Soul's eyes narrowed as he gave a bitter growl. "What kind of sick game are you playing, Tsubaki-?"

"-Let her answer the question, Eater!"

Again, the young woman didn't know how to respond. She looked to Soul, who looked back at her. He gave nothing but a plain face like he was so good at doing. Searching his eyes, she found nothing telling her to answer one way or the other, as if genuinely letting her decide on her own. Maka's stomach turned to knots as Tsubaki's prying gaze bore through her, the latter seeming desperate for an answer. Unable to think of anything, she clutched her stomach in a halfhearted attempt to ease the queasy feeling mounting inside her. Soul looked on, hiding his anticipation for Maka's response.

The answer came unexpectedly. Though it was her own touch, Maka couldn't help but be reminded of Soul's hand along her stomach as she tried to ease her sickness. Not even minutes before, he had held onto her with such determination that it felt like she would always be safe around him. His touch had made the uneasiness melt from her like nothing else could, and bitterly Maka shook her head to herself for forgetting that in such a short amount of time. The night he'd explained things to her, she accepted the fact her soul made him act strange. She accepted the risks. And, she in turn accepted him.

"I trust _Soul_!" Maka barked, fists curling as she glared at Tsubaki. "He'll always be there for me!"

Unable to fight it, Soul's eyes widened for a moment before letting out a snort. That sharp toothed grin of his plastered wide across his face as he started to laugh, drawing the Night Stalker's attention as she caught the expression from the corner of her eye. Tsubaki then looked back to Maka, noticing a small smirk along her lips as well. For a moment she remained silent, letting the two enjoy their moment.

It wasn't meant to last, however. "We'll see about that, Ms. Albarn."

Too fast even for Soul, Tsubaki's arm flashed yet again to reveal another blade in her opposite hand. Before the white Reaper had time to blink, the Night Stalker was already cocking her arm back to throw the weapon straight forward. By the time Soul noticed, the short sword had already left Tsubaki's hand on a direct path towards Maka Albarn. In gaping horror, the man watched for a moment as the sword inched ever closer to the helpless woman in what seemed like slow motion. Time stood still for him as instinct took over, causing the Reaper to suddenly disappear like he had done earlier in the fight.

It wasn't until the weapon came halfway towards her that Maka realized what was going on. Barely able to register in her mind just how fast the chunk of steel was going, it look even more time for her body to react. Her cold, emerald eyes simply widened as the tip of the blade flew closer, inevitably reaching her skull within seconds. For that split second before Soul arrived in front of her, she truly feared for her life. But as her protector materialized in front of her out of nowhere, her thoughts quickly shifted to his safety. Instead of her forehead in the line of fire, it was his neck.

"Soul!" she managed to scream out before it was too late.

The white Reaper simply stared out in front of him, not having enough time to turn around as see Maka's face one last time before the blade had the chance to sink into his throat. As he watched it approach and could feel the very tip of the steel touch a single space of his neck, Soul's mind became at ease knowing that he'd fulfilled his short lived promise. In the end, he accepted death and welcomed it, despite Maka's heart sinking scream from out behind him. Still, it was to keep her safe. And, as the sword started to sink deeper into his neck, he couldn't help but grin.

But before Tsubaki's weapon could go any farther into the Reaper's flesh, it suddenly came as quickly as it went. In another dark flash of light, the short chunk of steel disappeared without leaving a clue as to why. Soul's eyes widened as the tiny cut in his skin was the only thing that remained of the deadly blade, with Maka from out behind him giving a terrified heave over what could've been. The white haired man sucked in air at the thought of still being alive, very quickly becoming confused as to what exactly just happened. His answer came strangely.

"You passed the test!" Tsubaki's voice rang out, causing Soul and Maka's eyes to widen even more. "I expected no less from you, Eater!"

Maka, in complete shock, tossed her head over her protector's shoulder. Soul watched with her, mouth agape, as the Night Stalker across the clearing took off her mask. For the first time, the young woman could see the Reaper's face clearly under the moonlight. Completely opposite of what a cold blooded killer should look like, the female Reaper's skin was as soft as cream and looked like it too. Her indigo eyes shone much brighter than before, as if suddenly having a lens removed from them. And to top it all off, a bright smile that looked so out of place with everything else that was happening around them.

"Tsubaki...just what the fuck is going on?" Soul said numbly, dumbfounded.

The female Reaper's smile seemed to grow even more. "I needed to make sure you were the right one for protecting her! And you _passed!_"

A slight twitch grew in the white Reaper's muscles. "What the _fuck _are you testing me for!?"

"Orders from The Grim, of course!" Tsubaki beamed.

"That doesn't tell me _anything!"_

Soul ran a hand through his messy hair as a terse groan rumbled from the back of his throat. Completely unsure whether to be happy or furious, the red eyed man just let the air escape his lungs as he tried to sort through everything. That damn perky smile of Tsubaki's kept eating at him, almost taunting him with how bright and genuine it was. How someone could be so nice and kill for a living was beyond him, even after having known her for quite some time. Bitterly Soul scowled at the woman, not knowing what else to do other than vent his frustration. Maka, however, brought him back around to his usual self.

Having remained quiet during their conversation, she let herself slink against him tiredly. Soul's brows perked as arms laced underneath his own, wrapping themselves around his stomach in the same way he had done to her before. Maka let her head fall against the nape of his neck, her breath brushing past his skin as she closed her eyes in exhaustion. Tsubaki watched, touched, as Soul obliged by reaching behind him and rustling up Maka's hair. She shook her head in resistance, causing the Reaper to give an amused snort as his muscles relaxed.

"Tsubaki. You're going to explain everything tonight. But, I want to get her home first."

"Of course," the Night Stalker replied understandingly.

Despite the fact she was being treated like a four year old, Maka couldn't complain. In that instant, she was just happy to be able to hold onto Soul without worry. He had risked his life to save her, and from the bottom of her heart she knew there was nothing she could do to pay him back. A smile formed at the thought however, with Maka knowing full well that he would never want her to return the favor. She played with the thought of her life in Soul's hands as her grip on him tightened, the words he spoke earlier quickly filling the recesses of her mind. _It won't ever happen again. I promise._

Maka wasn't lying when she said she knew. Only now, she truly believed it.


	8. The Consequences

Shadows danced along the walls of Maka's home as ghastly images were born from the oil lamp's dim orange light. It stood at the center of her dining room table, as she and Soul sat faithfully next to each other. Strangely, it was almost an average night. For the past week, this was how they usually met. Under the cloak of darkness Soul would arrive, usually wearing his snide little smirk, and she would invite him inside for conversation. The Reaper would tell her stories or answer a few questions, or if he was feeling too lazy to say much then Maka would tell him how her day went. All night, every night, Soul would stay with her. And despite what some of the neighbors may have thought, including Hiro, it never went beyond mere words.

Tonight, however, was not an average night.

Maka felt uneasiness in her stomach, even as Soul's cool face pierced the soft, flickering light. She fought back the urge to reach for his hand, partly because his arms were crossed already as he leaned back in his chair, but mostly to not seem weak in her own home in the presence of the woman who pretended to abduct her not even an hour before. Tsubaki sat across from them, her arms neatly folded on the table with a polite smile on her face. She seemed so sweet and reserved that Maka questioned if it was actually the same woman from before, her attitude being the exact opposite of the cold, killing Reaper who had fought with Soul. Her thoughts then turned to the man next to her; was _he _the same person as before? That look in his eyes during the fight, Maka shuddered to think it wasn't human.

"So, Tsubaki," Soul said plainly, an almost uninterested look on his face. "Just what the hell did The Grim send you for?"

"And why is it that Reapers love to hold meetings in my house?" Maka mumbled to herself aloud.

Tsubaki muffled a giggle, forcing Soul to throw a questioning look Maka's way. The blonde raised an eyebrow in return, as if waiting for an answer. Soul's expression turned flat as he shook his head in annoyance, returning his attention back to the female Reaper as Maka smiled mockingly from out of his sight. Soul grimaced as Tsubaki smiled back, obviously amused with their silent exchange.

"You two certainly make quite the pair. I'm glad you've become friends." Tsubaki commented warmly.

Soul gave the woman a bitter look. "Tsubaki, answer the question already."

"Don't you think I should properly introduce myself first?"

"For the love of god, Tsubaki!"

The white Reaper leaned back further in his chair and gave an annoyed scowl, but seemed to motion with his head for the Tsubaki to go ahead. The woman obliged, and stood up slightly in her chair to lean over the table. Maka was taken aback when the woman's hand arrived near her face, not expecting to be so close again after that incident in the woods. She caught sight of Tsubaki's indigo eyes though, and knew from her pleasant gaze that all she wanted was to shake hands. Politely she smiled back, and took it without hesitation.

Tsubaki's soft voice was almost mother-like. "My name is Nakatsukasa Tsubaki. I know I told you this already, but not under circumstances I would have liked."

"Maka Albarn," the librarian replied softly, almost forgetting everything that took place. "And neither would I."

"I'm sorry to have put you through all of that, Ms. Albarn." Tsubaki sighed, releasing her soft grip.

The young woman shook her head. "As long as we're fine, that's all that matters."

Though initially annoyed, Soul found his bitter scowl waning after he caught sight of Maka's eyes from the corner of his own. She stole his attention with her somber expression, with Soul knowing full well the she was thinking of how close he had come to being stabbed in the throat. His usually harsh eyes softened, giving her a silent apology as he reached under the table and clutched her knee. Almost forgetting Tsubaki was there, Maka smiled faintly back at him.

The female Reaper remained standing and silent, watching the two with interest. A knowing smile spread across her lips after noticing the way her Reaper associate's gruff exterior quickly melted in the presence of the young blonde's smile. She tried to abstain, but in the end couldn't help herself. Tsubkai reached behind her for the chair and pulled it in just a way to cause a decent amount of ruckus, fighting back more giggles as Soul and Maka quickly snapped their attention back to her. Before they could say a word, Tsubaki was already in her chair.

"So I take it that you're the one who's been keeping Eater busy these past seven nights?" She mused playfully.

Maka's deeply reddened face was thankfully swallowed up by orange light. "How do you know about that?"

"Because I haven't reported to The Grim in a week." Soul muttered, looking the other way.

"And," Tsubaki piped, her tone evening out. "He's not very happy about it."

Confused, Maka looked to Soul. Instead of looking back however, the white Reaper pushed his chair back and excused himself from the table. She watched as he made his way over towards the living room, scratching the back of his head as he disappeared from sight around the corner. Tsubaki understood immediately that he hadn't explained anything to Maka, so with a shake of the head the she took it upon herself to do the talking; He was avoiding the subject yet again. Still bewildered, Maka watched as Tsubaki laced her fingers together professionally and tried to find the right words to explain.

"The Grim is a very powerful man, Ms. Albarn. As his personal herald, I can assure you his reach spreads through out the world."

Maka shifted in place a bit. "So you're The Grim's herald? That means you send messages and orders, right?"

"That, and the fact I hold the title of Night Stalker makes me his personal assassin."

A knot formed in the pit of Maka's stomach, her demeanor suddenly wary at Tsubaki's confession of killing for a living. She didn't feel threatened around her, but just as Soul had told her that he ate people's souls, Maka couldn't help but feel slightly more aware of the female Reaper's presence. Tsubaki seemed to pick up on this somewhat, as her presence relaxed ever so slightly. Still, that professional look across her face told Maka that now was the time for answers, not comfort. Silently, she agreed.

"Back on topic. I'm sure you know that he's the strongest of the Reapers?"

Maka nodded faintly. "Yeah, Soul told me that much. He doesn't like to mention it though."

"Yes, well, that's to be expected." Tsubaki sighed absently, shaking her head. "They don't get along much."

"And why is that?" the young woman asked, suddenly curious as to what kind of person could get on Soul's nerves so much.

The Night Stalker simply shook her head, as if silently telling her to not press the matter any further. It was strange considering Tsubaki suddenly didn't want to answer her question, even though she said she would explain everything earlier. Maka couldn't help but to huff to herself, slightly convinced that all Reapers had a bad habit of not going into detail about things. First Soul, who had barely told her anything in the first place, and now Tsubaki. It irked her even more when she realized that clues to Soul's distaste for The Grim were made all the more apparent during their nights together.

Maka would always sit in her living room. A novel close by, usually closed after having her attention taken away by Soul's discussion. Her questions came sporadically, peppered in every once in a while during their superfluous conversations together. Some he had no trouble answering, like why other people saw him differently. Others, such as how old he was, always had much more ambiguous responses. _Old enough, _he had replied, grinning at her with his razor sharp teeth. _That's all you need to know in case you ever get any ideas._

Of course, she had smacked him with her book. It seemed to have become customary in their short time together, being the only thing she had over his snide remarks. Sarcasm aside however, one question always wiped that confident air clean away from him. Who is The Grim, she would ask. Such a simple question should have had a simple response, but all Maka ever got was a bitter look and a snort. _I take my orders from him_ was all Soul ever said in return. Three times she had asked. And all three times, she'd been shot down.

Tsubaki went on, bringing Maka back into the conversation. "In any case, even The Grim can't be everywhere at once. Therefore, he has the Reapers."

"And I take it that they're supposed to report in every once in a while?" Maka asked casually, already knowing the answer.

The female Reaper nodded her head. "Normally yes. In Eater's case, however, it's every other night."

"What?" Maka blinked, suddenly confused. "Why is Soul different from the others?"

"He's not the one who's different, Ms. Albarn. You and your soul are."

Without a word, Tsubaki pushed back in her chair and rose up from the table. Maka followed her with her eyes as she went around, treading lightly along the wooden floor before taking a knee right next to the young woman. Tsubaki smiled comfortingly as Maka turned to face her, the scene strangely uncomfortable under the orange oil light. Both women remained silent for a few moments, neither knowing quite the right words to say, or even if they _should _say something in the first place. Eventually, after moments of quiet, Tsubaki was the one to break the tense air with her continued explanation.

"Grigories are under protection of the The Grim. When contact is broken with the Reaper in charge of protecting them, things often become very worrisome."

Maka shifted uneasily in her spot, not liking where the conversation was headed. "Can't Soul report to him in the morning?"

Tsubaki shook her head. "I'm afraid things aren't as simple as that. The Grim isn't pleased at the moment."

"Don't blame him!" the young blonde blurted out uncontrollably. "It's not his fault, it's mine!"

"I'm sure it only had partly to do with you." Tsubaki sighed tiredly.

The librarian found herself sinking in the wooden chair she sat in, suddenly feeling guilty for everything that was occurring. Granted, she knew that Soul was lazy and perhaps even irresponsible, but there was no denying the fact that it _was _her fault he was so preoccupied. Maka didn't exactly know what 'reporting in' entailed in Reaper talk, but she knew that if Soul had any free time it had been devoted to her the past seven days. Whether it was staying in her house at night to talk and eat her food, or appearing randomly throughout the day for no apparent reason at all, they were in constant contact.

Now, as she sat there in the eerie orange glow of the oil lamp's flame, Maka wondered just what exactly was to be Soul's punishment. Unable to help it, she looked into Tsubaki's calm indigo eyes and searched for any clue to an answer. The Reaper, peering back up at her, simply gave another comforting smile as if predicting the girl's concern. She patted Maka's lap, reassuring her everything was fine.

Again, Tsubaki's sweet voice cut through stagnant silence. "Eater isn't in any danger, so please don't worry Ms. Albarn."

Maka couldn't fight back a sigh of relief. "But then what's going to happen? Isn't The Grim upset with him now?"

"That just means Eater will have to report to him directly, which means-"

_"-Which means I'm not going there alone, am I?" _

The young woman's head immediately turned towards the archway leading into her living room, finding Soul leaning against the wall underneath it with his arms crossed and a stony expression to his face. Solemnly, Maka watched as he pushed himself off and made his way back to the dining room table. That expression of his as he pulled up a chair at the head of the table and eased himself in, it reminded her of the night he had first come into her home. How Soul had acted when he told her that he had no name, it was exactly how he was acting now. Distant, thoughtful, like he wasn't even there.

"Where did you go off to?" Maka smiled waveringly.

"Bathroom," he said simply, still staring off into the distance. She knew he was lying.

Tsubaki looked at her accomplice and frowned. "I take it you were listening after all? Or were you really just relieving yourself?"

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Tsubaki." Soul grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance. "But you better tell Maka _exactly_ what this means."

Nodding in agreement, the female Reaper picked herself off the floor and pulled out the chair right next to Maka. Knowing something was obviously not right by the way Soul carried himself, the blonde's stomach turned to knots as Tsubaki fell into place in front of her. The situation became even more uneasy when Maka's hand was taken by the Reaper gingerly, in a way not unlike someone being consoled after a relative's death. She tried to remain calm, though realized it was a futile effort. Her heart started pounding uncontrollably at the way Soul kept staring at them, almost like he was worried.

"Ms. Albarn," Tsubaki began, holding Maka's hand tighter. "Because Soul is your guard, you unfortunately have to go with him."

"Wait a minute...that's it?" the woman blinked, not noticing Soul's exasperated reaction to her response.

Tsubaki tilted her head in the curious way she had done earlier. "Well...yes."

Suddenly feeling relieved, Maka slunk back in her chair and gave a heavy sigh. She had expected something much more grim, instead of simply having to tag along with Soul. The thought of him being reassigned to something else, if that were even an option, made her throat tighten. Tsubaki gave her the best possible answer, and in all honesty, Maka even felt slightly excited. Finally, she was going to find out who exactly The Grim was once and for all. No more mysteries or roundabout responses. Soul was going to take her to see the man who had sent him to her in the first place.

The satisfying thought didn't last, however. Soul made sure of that. Before Maka knew it, the white Reaper swooped in between her and Tsubaki. He pinned her hands to the chair with his own and leaned into her menacingly, just like he had done once before. Both women gaped at the sudden movement, Maka especially when she caught sight of the harsh look in the Reaper's glaring red eyes. His mouth parted to reveal the rows of razors sharp teeth as they cut the air with every breath. Tsubaki watched him from behind, very cautious as to what the man was about to do next.

"Don't think this is a vacation, Maka!" Soul hissed, rattling her chair. "You have no idea what's in store for us!"

The young woman tensed up. "The Grim is in charge of you, he wouldn't hurt us would he-"

"-I couldn't give a fuck about him! There's other things to worry about!"

Soul growled bitterly before releasing his grip on Maka, immediately turning away from her and Tsubaki as he made his way back to his chair. At a loss for words, Maka turned to the female Reaper for an answer. Instead of a smile like she had always given, Tsubaki's pained expression seemed to reinforce Soul's sentiments. The white Reaper threw his chair back angrily and plopped himself down. He sat there for a moment in silence, letting himself quietly simmer away his frustrations. No one said a word afterwards, as if waiting for Soul to recollect his calm composure. Thankfully, it didn't take too long.

His body eased slowly. White hair draped over his eyes, leaving Maka unable to catch his expression. "It's dangerous, Maka."

"As opposed to waiting for Reapers to come and attack me every day?" she replied sternly, not at all convinced.

Tsubaki butted in. "Ms. Albarn, to arrive there, you're going to have to cross multiple territories."

"Just where the hell is it that we're going, Tsubaki!" Maka ground out adamantly.

"A place where the sun doesn't exist, even though surrounded by it."

Almost in defeat, Maka let her hands slam against the arms of the chair. She was fed up with ambiguity and stupid riddles. With Soul and Tsubaki only giving her bits and pieces of the answers she so desperately needed. For a moment she contemplated getting up and walking out of the room altogether, leaving the two Reaper's to realize just how frustrated they were being. Before her legs could get up and start going however, Soul's voice stopped the young librarian dead in her tracks. From behind his crossed arms and bowed head, the man's soft and quiet words made Maka slink backwards.

"It's called the Reaper's stomping ground. The cursed city of Death, where night never fades. Our home, and The Grim's."

Soul's tone sounded pained. His posture mimicked it, with Tsubaki's own expression not too far off the mark. Maka bit her lip when her friend and protector threw up his head to look at her, their green and red eyes mixing for a moment respectively under the ghastly orange glow of the light. He seemed so melancholic they way his brows upturned and shoulders slunk forward. The Night Stalker across from him held herself similarly, as if both had just been given a death sentence. Maka gripped her chair tightly, her knee bouncing up and down as her leg shook with anticipation. Just as Soul had said, things didn't seem so simple anymore. Visiting The Grim wouldn't be such a pleasant trip after all. Especially knowing now that it wasn't just him she would be seeing, but apparently hordes of Reapers as well.

In heart and mind, her worry grew. Not because of the two Reaper's words, or because of Soul's still unmentioned punishment. It was due to the fact that never before had she felt so vulnerable around these two people like she was now. Tsubaki, the Night Stalker, personal assassin to The Grim and his herald, was suddenly looking as weary as herself. Maka knew that it was because the Reaper was concerned for her well being as a Grigori, and not so much for her own. Soul, however, scared her the most. He looked so disheartened, almost guilty even. Back in the woods, the white Reaper had been confident in being able to defend her from any harm. Even after Tsubaki had abducted her, he had always seemed in control of the situation. This time though, she felt no such confidence from him.

These two were the strongest people she knew. Why then, did they seem so worried?


	9. The Feast

They called him Eater for a reason.

Maka was constantly reminded of that every time Tsubaki addressed him, but never did it seem to register in her mind exactly why. He had even explained it to her in detail, perhaps being the only thing she'd actually been fully informed of during their short time together. Still though, Soul's cool behavior and calm attitude allowed Maka to forget his _tendencies _almost completely. Not since their first meeting together had he given any sort of inkling towards having the same urges as Lyle Noah, and after his assurance that he was mature enough to control himself, Maka paid the danger little mind.

Which was why she was surprised all the more when the sun poked through her curtains, forcing heavy eyes open for the first time in eight hours. Morning rattled her awake abruptly, causing the young blonde to squirm in bed as if silently begging for more time asleep. It was such a typical response that Maka hardly noticed the person standing next to her bed as he silently watched her struggle with the call of dawn. It wasn't until she flung her head to the side in order to stretch and greet the day that the woman's heart practically lept out of her chest. Though his hair was no longer white, nor eyes as red as blood, Maka knew from his teasingly sharp teeth that it was Soul hovering next to her.

At first pleasantly surprised by his presence, very quickly the woman became horrified as two realizations occurred to her.

"Maka..."

The first one was that he had no shirt on. Soul's usually thick, black coat was nowhere to be seen, probably being that he took it off to fall asleep in her living room after having offered it to him last night. The only clothing he had was his undershirt as it dangled over his drooping shoulder, leaving nothing else to cover up his, Maka gaped, well built arms and torso. Not noticing it before due to his layers of clothing, she buried her face half-under the covers at the toe-curling sight. She hoped her bedding would cover up the obvious embarrassment as it swept across her face, made all the worse by the fact that underneath it all, only a simple nightgown covered up her underwear.

"Soul...?"

The second realization came after her eyes finally moved away from his toned self and met the man's gaze. Soul's expression was flat, as always, but the look in his paled eyes caught Maka off guard. A deprived, hungry quiver shook them in such a way that made her want to scoot away in caution. Against her better judgement however, Maka stayed motionless in the bed as she locked his gluttonous stare with a wary one of her own. Soul gave a tremulous breath, his chest falling shakily as Maka looked on concernedly. She gripped the covers tightly, fearing he might do something that both of them would regret later. Though luckily for her, the Reaper proved in the end that his urges were not in control of him.

"Tsubaki made breakfast," he said hoarsely, giving her one last lingering look before turning away.

Maka watched the hunched over man as he let himself out of her room quietly. The door closed behind him softly, his usual gruffness nowhere to be seen. Being left all alone in her now empty room, Maka couldn't help but feel like Soul's confidence had taken a beating in the past twenty-four hours. She threw off her covers, frowning slightly as she got up to prepare for the unexpected meal Tsubaki had prepared for them. _He may a jerk sometimes_, Maka thought to herself as she slid out of her nightgown and into more modest clothing, _but it's not fair what he goes through_...

She looked in the mirror atop her small dresser, staring at herself as if eyeing something she didn't like. A shake of the head, and she turned to make her way towards the door. As she gripped the handle, Maka froze for a moment to think for a fleeting second that Soul's predicament was all her fault. In all honesty, she couldn't deny it. Most of what occurred yesterday was either directly or indirectly because of her, with her protector's sudden hunger being no exception. But as Maka continued to dwell, Tsubaki's voice rang out through the hallway past the door, calling her to breakfast. For the sake of saving face, she put the depressing thoughts to the sidelines and with a sigh opened her door.

"Since when do guests cook for their hosts, Tsubaki?" Maka called out, amused as she made her way down the hallway.

The Reaper called back as the smell of eggs and sizzling sausage assaulted the young woman's nose. "When their hosts are fast asleep, Ms. Albarn!"

Unable to contain a smile, Maka emerged from the hallway into the living room and past the couch where Soul had slept. From there, it took her only a few steps past the archway until she was at her dining room table. Immediately, her eyes grew wide at the sight of mounds of food sprawled out in front of her. Biscuits, eggs, bacon, sausage, waffles, and everything else imaginable seemed present. She couldn't help but to gape; partly in awe at the sheer amount of work and effort it must have taken to cook such a meal, and partly out of horror knowing that her entire pantry must have been wiped clean.

"Tsubaki-! Why so much food?"

"Reapers need to eat!" she laughed back from the kitchen.

Maka shook her head in dismay. "There's no way we can finish all of this!"

"Eater will," Tsubaki walked into the dining room, almost giggling at her unintended pun. "He's practically empty at the moment."

The mention of her protector's name sent Maka turning her head to look for him, only to find empty chairs and Tsubaki apologetically smiling back at her. The female Reaper motioned for her to sit down and start eating which, despite not wanting to seem rude, didn't feel right to Maka as she obediently pulled up a chair. It seemed wrong to start eating without her clearly hungry friend, even though she had no idea where he was. Tsubaki, after having sat down as well, immediately felt Maka's apprehensiveness and went to work putting her mind at ease.

"My apologies, Ms. Albarn. I wasn't thinking when I sent him to wake you up." The female Reaper told her soothingly.

Maka looked to her guest, then back down to the piles of food in front of her. "Is he going to be okay?"

Tsubaki shook her head as she reached over for a biscuit. "Allow me to explain some things..."

Groaning at the mention of 'explain some things,' Maka fell back into her chair as Tsubaki blinked in confusion. She had already learned first hand how roundabout a Reaper's explanation could be, and quite frankly she had no patience for it at the moment. Knowing however that Tsubaki would try to anyway, Maka didn't try to fight it. She simply hunched over the table and threw some eggs on her plate, listening politely as the Reaper went on while she pecked at the food in front of her.

"...Eater doesn't seem to have consumed any souls recently, but it's not like he'll kill over. It doesn't work like that."

Maka gulped her food down slowly, suddenly feeling very concerned again. "So then what happens if he doesn't eat any souls?"

"Well," Tsubaki drawled, looking to the ceiling as she placed a hand over her cheek. "The thing is, I'm not sure anyone actually knows-"

_"-Tsubaki? Can I have some?"_

The two women spun around to find Soul standing under the archway like he had last night, only this time his he was nowhere near as collected. Maka cringed as it was immediately apparent that he hadn't bothered to put his undershirt on since he left, but the look in his eyes kept the woman from getting upset at him. It was both sad and charming how awe-filled his expression was at the amount of food in front of him, reminding her of a kid in a candy store being told that he could have whatever he wanted. Soul's shoulders and mouth hung low as he waited eagerly for Tsubaki's response.

Though at first taken aback, Tsubaki's surprise gave way to an amused grin as she motioned for him to sit down. Immediately the man obliged, almost clamoring for a chair as he rushed towards the table. Maka stared warmly as Soul reached for everything on the table. Scoopfuls of eggs, multiple links of sausages, and biscuit after biscuit found their way on his plate. Without waiting for either of the women, he immediately dug into his meal at an alarming rate. Soul's sharp teeth made quick work of his food, the mess in front of him quickly disappearing right in front of Maka's eyes. She didn't mind however, and neither did Tsubaki. They simply watched for a moment as he emptied his plate, then went back for seconds.

"_We'll talk later,_" Tsubaki silently mouthed to Maka, the latter nodding as they both started digging in as well.

Though he was her bodyguard, and stronger than anyone she had ever met before, Maka couldn't help but to feel protective as she eyed Soul secretly. For the first time ever, the Reaper wasn't this mysterious, otherworldly being who made her shudder every time he spoke or smiled. In fact, he was the exact opposite, as Maka realized while taking a bite out of her waffle. The excited, almost gleeful look in Soul's eyes as he sated the hunger in his stomach made him seem all too human. A giggle fought hard to make it past the young woman's lips as she mused with the idea of Soul being an overactive teenager, with his sudden metabolism matching his equally recent lack of manners and tact.

Breakfast lasted only so long. To Maka's shock and awe, before she knew it, the three of them had eaten the vast assortment of food sprawled out on every inch of the dining room table. Her own plate was littered with bits and pieces of unfinished leftovers, with Tsubaki's in front of her being completely wiped clean. Just how much had the woman actually eaten? Maka had no idea, being too focused on Soul to notice. She then looked at his plate and, not surprisingly, found no trace of food left, either. The pale eyed man fell back to his chair, a bulging stomach almost as big as his grin.

"Dammit, Tsubaki!" was all he could muster before uttering a muffled burp.

"It was delicious, Tsubaki! Thank you!" Maka added cheerily, before flashing a scolding look Soul's way.

The indigo eyed Reaper smiled brightly as she already began collecting the used dishes. "It's the least I could do after you were kind enough to let me stay the night, Ms. Albarn."

"Please, just call me Maka from now on!" Maka replied quickly, jumping to her feet in order to stop Tsubaki from cleaning up. "Let me do it, you've done enough already!

Despite her host's best efforts, Tsubaki wouldn't relinquish her hold over the dishes as she retreated back into the kitchen. "I insist, _Maka. _Allow me!"

The young woman huffed as her guest disappeared behind closed doors, carrying with her a huge assortment of dirty plates and pans. She was left standing there with Soul sitting sprawled out in his chair, eyes closed in satisfaction as his head tilted backwards lazily. Though annoyed by his current lack of civility, Maka just couldn't bring herself to scold him like she wanted to. It was nearly impossible, what with the way he rolled his head around to give her a genuine smile. Her anger seemed to melt away instantly, replaced instead with that feeling from before.

"You okay?" she asked, moving to sit back down.

Soul nodded his head. "Yeah, breakfast should hold me over for now."

"_For now?_" Maka froze, shocked that the giant meal hadn't completely quelled his hunger.

His smile fading, the Reaper motioned for her take the seat next to him. Maka complied, though only halfway. She sat down in the chair, only to to scoot it away from him enough to not brush past his sleeveless arms. Granted, it was no time to be shy, but the woman couldn't help but be apprehensive. Thankfully Soul made no comment, despite Maka knowing him well enough to realize that he was probably already fighting a chuckle. He simply remained silent as she sat by his side, the clangs of pots and pans in the kitchen being the only things heard for a while.

Without a word, Soul held out an upturned hand for her to take. At first confused and just a little bit weary, she looked at down at it before back up at him for an answer. She found one in his hardened stare, one that held a powerful message behind it. It wasn't an intimidating look, far from it; Rather, it seemed a silent promise that he was serious about being her protector. Maka's apprehensiveness fell at the sight of it, and she found her own hand snaking its way into his before the latter clutched it tightly. Their fingers intertwined, he never broke his gaze.

"No matter what happens," he affirmed adamantly. "I'll always protect you. Don't ever forget that, and I won't either."

Maka damned herself when she nodded meekly, eyes wide and breath sharp. In that moment she convinced herself of a few things, one of them being that Soul was very convincing without his shirt on. And, as his stoic expression gave way to a winding grin, Maka also realized that he loved the fact she was all but putty in his hands. At first the woman tried halfheartedly to pull away from him, but the Reaper wouldn't have it. A playful look filled his eyes as he pulled her in closer, snickering at the way Maka's face flushed red. They struggled back and forth for a moment, not realizing it as the sounds of dishes being put away had long since ceased. Between Soul's snide remarks and Maka's protests, the sound of Tsubaki entering the room was drowned out completely.

Her booming voice, however, immediately hushed them both. "Eater! Quit flirting with Ms. Albarn and go put a shirt on already!"

Another first. Soul instantly released his hold on Maka as the latter watched him bow his head low in embarrassment. Almost at a loss for words, she smiled as he turned around to meet Tsubaki's stern gaze, her arms crossed in obvious irritation. The pale eyed man cringed, reaching for the back of his head as he slowly got up out of his chair. Eyes averted, there was no way for him to see Maka as she fought back laughter behind his back. Forced out of the room by Tsubaki's narrowed eyes, the Reaper skulked out into the living room, leaving the two women to themselves once again.

"...I can't believe I just saw that!" Maka finally laughed, once she was sure that Soul wouldn't hear her.

The female Reaper's crossness quickly faded. "I'll be sure to keep him in line during our trip."

"_Our _trip?" the blonde reeled, suddenly feeling like a broken record.

"Of course, Maka. I'll be escorting you back to Death."

The sounds of shuffling feet and a lamp falling over suddenly echoed from the living room over, followed by Soul's growls as he cursed aloud bitterly. Tsubaki giggled at her associate's ineptness, with Maka left sitting and wondering just how her life had become so strange. Two Reapers, mysterious purveyors of life and death, were making themselves at home in _her _home, and all she could do was smile and laugh. Things were far from normal, she admitted, but at this point there was little she could do to change that. In fact, even if she had the ability to, Maka wouldn't change a thing.

Her feelings were further cemented when Soul emerged back out from the living room, this time fully clothed. Though he grumbled to himself and closed his eyes to avoid Tsubaki's gaze, the Reaper had little trouble finding his way back to Maka as he walked up behind her. The feelings of his hands on her shoulders sent Maka looking up, interested in what exactly he wanted. She found out quickly that, from the look on his face, he didn't even realize he was doing it. All his attention was devoted to ignoring the other Reaper, meaning he couldn't see the warm smile that found its way on Maka's lips.

"The Grim will be waiting for us eagerly." Tsubaki informed them, more for Maka's sake than Soul's. "So the sooner we leave, the better."

"Then we leave tomorrow morning. That'll give her enough time to prepare." Soul mumbled, peeking through one of his eyes.

Nodding in approval, the Night Stalker smiled at her Grigori friend. "Is that alright with you, Maka?"

"Whatever you feel is best," the woman replied, letting her head roll over to the side.

Soul's hand felt warm against her cheek, she admitted to herself. Likewise, her cheek must have felt cold to his hand, what with the way his fingers twitched at her touch. The pale Reaper opened his eyes to look down on her, perhaps noticing for the first time that he had been gripping her shoulder tightly. Whether or not he was surprised, Maka couldn't say. She closed her eyes before having a chance to catch his exasperation, though from the way she heard Tsubaki giggling at him, Maka could tell that she had at least gotten _some _kind of reaction out of him.

Her thoughts were instead focused on the day ahead of them. She would have to tell her neighbors that she was going on an extended trip, followed by Mr. Sid who just loved to know what she was up to. Things would need to be packed and, unless Tsubaki really _had_ used up all her food, clean up the pantry before her stock went bad. Very quickly though, Maka realized that besides feeding them for the morning the female Reaper must have also thought ahead, purposely using up all the food before letting it go to waste. She laughed to herself; the woman was amazing.

Soul's grip tightened on her, with him muttering something that she couldn't make out. Tsubaki replied with a lighthearted call of his name, followed by silence between them both. Maka blended into the scene just as quietly, too lost in thought to notice the Reapers eyeing her in amusement. Even if she had noticed though, Maka probably wouldn't have said anything. The comforting presence of her two strange friends kept most of the worry regarding their coming trip at bay. Soul especially, who always made her feel like nothing bad could happen. It was his job after all, although something else about him just made her feel all the safer. Perhaps it was the teeth, or the way his carefree attitude always crumbled when he sensed danger.

Or maybe it was how he always tried so hard to not live up to his nickname.

Even though she knew from the way his finger continued to twitch that he was still lusting after her soul.


	10. The Cab Ride

Elbow on the window sill, cheek in her palm, Maka's eyes were glued to the gathering darkness above them.

She knew that rain was coming, as already a light drizzle began to patter itself against the horse drawn carriage in which they rode. The whinnies and neighs coming from the beasts of burden told her they probably sensed it coming as well, and that they weren't too happy at the prospect of traveling in such wet conditions. She couldn't help but pity them slightly, both them and the cabby who forced them onward. Then of course there was Soul who, despite her and Tsubaki's protests at the beginning of their trip, felt it necessary to sit alongside the driver. Though she had no idea why, it was probably because he didn't want to be cooped up inside for three long days.

When the rain started to fall harder outside, Maka mused that her _protector_ was more than likely regretting his decision at the moment. The thought brought a smile across her face, one that turned into a full out grin as the sounds of Soul grunting angrily rose above the pelting rain drops. From the corner of her eye, she caught Tsubaki's smirk as she sat across from her, the two of them unable to hold back their obvious amusement at the white Reaper's expense. A few moments passed, and so too did his audible dissatisfaction. The water continued to fall in bulk however, and soon the mood grew much more somber in that cozy carriage of theirs. Maybe it was because the cabby and horses were still being soaked, but more than likely because rain tended to make things more melancholic in general.

"You know...he used to scare me." Maka recounted, still gazing at the gray clouds above.

Tsubaki's curiosity perked at the comment. "And what about now?"

Maka shrugged. Unable to give a clear answer to either herself or Tsubaki, she merely sat quietly and drifted away at the sounds of rainfall. A small conversation between Soul and their cabby could be heard outside, but she paid little attention to it. Her friend's cool voice was the only thing that caught her ear even if she couldn't make out a thing he was saying. For a moment, the thought of being scared of him seemed silly to Maka. He'd already proven he was willing to die for her, and he promised to always protect her, so why then couldn't she fully trust him?

Then of course she remembered the previous morning. When she had woken up, him standing over her, the corners of his mouth practically seeping with drool. At the time it didn't seem so scary, if only because she was half-asleep. But now as she looked back on it and dwelt on the image of Soul's gluttonous stare, a horrifying shiver racked her body in the cool, humid air. Tsubaki watched, concernedly, as Maka slunk back into her seat and let her head fall against the cushion. Biting her lower lip, the Night Stalker remained silent as Maka seemed to struggle with her own thoughts. After a minute or two of waiting however, and with no change in the woman's pained expression, Tsubaki had to say something.

"Reapers are naturally lonely creatures," she said softly, catching Maka's eye as she continued. "There's a reason we stay away from humans."

Maka breathed in. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out why that was. "...And what reason would that be?"

Tsubaki looked out the window, seemingly lost in thought. "Because they'll all eventually die."

Silence fell between them once more. Tsubaki still gazed outside, becoming lost in the lullaby of falling water out into the darkened skies above. Maka did the same, words seemingly inappropriate for the moment. Both women let themselves become lost in the haze just outside the carriage's wooden doors. Again, the sounds of conversation between the driver and Soul echoed from outside, but this time not even Soul's voice could break Maka's zoning out. All it _did _seem to do was remind her of Tsubaki's words; Reapers are naturally lonely creatures.

"Eater is over two hundred years old," the Reaper revealed suddenly, not even bothering to look in Maka's direction.

In an instant, Maka's throat tightened. Bleary eyed from her stupor, a sudden sadness washed over the woman so fast that it almost knocked the wind out of her. She looked across the carriage for any kind of acknowledgement from Tsubaki, but still the normally warm and cheerful Reaper was all too distant. Essentially left to fend for herself, Maka bit the inside of her cheek to remain composed and feel something other than this growing numbness that began to envelop her. The thought of Soul, her friend, being anything older than what he appeared be, which was in his late twenties, was almost too hard to comprehend. Honestly, she had expected something like this when she had first met him, even contemplated if he was even alive or human, but this? Two hundred years on this earth, alone?

"...How old are you?" she asked distantly, not caring if she got an answer or not.

Tsubaki sighed, finally breaking her stare and turning towards Maka. "Four hundred, seventy six."

"Figures," Maka snorted sullenly, before letting her head fall onto the cushion behind her. Tsubaki said nothing.

The rain stopped suddenly, probably being the only optimistic thing to happen on that tiny stretch of road. It brought some slight relief when the clouds parted briefly to reveal a few sparse rays of sunshine. But just like the upbeat mood of their journey had been dashed away, so too was the light quickly smothered by swirls of black and grey. Birds had returned and gave their calls off into the distance, but none close enough to ease the cold void between Maka and Tsubaki. The former of the two felt no reason to continue their conversation, nor did she have the heart to anyway.

"I'm surprised how taken Eater is with you." Tsubaki smiled. "I've never seen him so protective of anyone before."

"He's just doing his job. If he gets transferred or something, he'll forget all about me." Maka replied, eyes half closed in resentment.

The female Reaper suddenly became tense. Her gaze narrowed, sharpy. "No. He's been by himself this whole time, and you're his only friend-"

"-All I am is a walking buffet to him!" Maka growled suddenly, surprising both herself and Tsubaki. She couldn't stop, though. "All he wants from me is my soul-!"

"-_You're_ the reason he hasn't eaten in the first place!" The Night Stalker cut her off with a resounding shout. "Don't go putting your insecurities on him like a spoiled child!"

In an instant, the young woman was hushed. She closed her eyes, a heavy burn singed deep in the pit of her stomach. Tsubaki's words stung, if only because they were true. A second later, and she started to feel the same guilt that had been hidden in the crawlspace of her mind since yesterday morning. Like a moment in time best left forgotten, she thought it was something she had already gotten over. But now, all the self-critical thoughts and doubt hit her like a ton of bricks, leaving her to frown at the floor in silence. She was being selfish and a burden, plain and simple. In her head, there was nobody lower. 

Tsubaki's crossness receded as quickly as it came. Her expression eased by twenty degrees and she too ended up with a frown. Perhaps even after being alive all these years, she still had trouble dealing with humans. In the hopes that it would set her mind at ease, the Reaper got up from her seat and eased herself into the one next to Maka. The blonde immediately flinched at her escort's presence, expecting further chastising. All that came, however, was a gentle hand on her lap and Tsubaki's sweet smile. The sight and sensation made Maka's stomach churn once again.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, shaking her head. "You're right, I'm the reason all of this is happening in the first place...!"

Tsubaki hushed her gently. "I'm sorry too, Maka. None of this is your fault. I realize it's hard dealing with all of this, we don't really make it easy on you-"

"-That's not it!" the young woman breathed deeply, trying not to let her voice shake. "I'm making it hard on _you! _And Soul!"

For the first time, the Reaper gave a chuckle that sounded all too like Soul's. So out of character was it, in fact, that Maka blinked her welt up eyes in confusion. Not sure exactly how to respond, she remained still as Tsubaki's arms wrapped around her, tightening into a hug that was very much needed. After a moment Maka eased into her friend's embrace, not questioning it at all. Maka threw her arm halfheartedly around Tsubaki, the two holding one another as the former's ill thoughts started to ease. Warmth returned to the carriage, for a time. 

"Things will be revealed soon, I'll make sure of that. But for now, know that anything that happens during this trip _we're_ responsible for, not you."

Maka nodded absently. She squirmed a bit, with Tsubaki's hair still stringed along her face. "But what about Soul? He's still hungry."

"We'll figure something out!" the Reaper beamed back. "Eater's tougher than he looks. He's not just another pretty face."

Almost as if on cue, Soul's laughter interrupted the two women. With the rain long since passed, there was no other noises to muffle out the boisterous sounds of enjoyment coming from Soul and their cab driver, Enrique. Besides being the first time Maka had ever heard the white Reaper laugh so heartfelt before, the timing was perfect. Tsubaki was at first puzzled when the young woman clutched her shoulder tightly, thinking for a moment that she had become distressed again. But when the escort felt her start to giggle with laughter, she was relieved. It wasn't long before Tsubaki felt the need to join in as well, the four cab riders all laughing together for different reasons.

But the enjoyment was cut short. Maka felt her friend's arm stiffen suddenly in her grasp. Worried, she pulled back from Tsubaki and gave her a look over. Heart sinking, Maka remembered the look that plastered on her face; Wide eyed, distant, almost slack jaw, it was the same face that Soul had that time in the library. Her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of another Reaper being near, since the only time she'd ever seen it was when Tsubaki had arrived in his territory. The Night Stalker snapped herself out of it, breaking from her trance much faster than Soul had before her. She looked to Maka, who in turn waited desperately for a response.

"I believe we're going to be stopping in a moment," she muttered seriously.

_"Enrique!"_ Soul's voice called out from the front. "_Pull over to the side!"_

The horses whinnied, the sound of their hooves grinding against the road screeching through the air. Maka was pressed backwards as the cabby pulled the reigns tightly behind her, with Tsubaki's hair flung messily around from the sudden stop. Within moments the wooden carriage become completely still, leaving Maka to wonder just what exactly was going on; Was it a Reaper? Something else? Tsubaki gave no indication one way or the other. 

Their cab rocked, the sounds of hurriedly shuffling feet making their way to the door. Within seconds it was thrust open, Soul's soaked face poking in as his attention fell directly to his fellow Reaper. Maka eyed Tsubaki, the latter looking back to the pale eyed man with a quick nod. Without explaining herself, the Night Stalker clamored over her young friend and immediately jumped out of the cab. Figuring she ought to do the same, Maka followed faithfully behind, with Soul making sure she didn't trip on her way out.

"Can you find him, Tsubaki?" he asked hastily, making sure to close the carriage door behind Maka.

The other Reaper nodded again. "Yes, I can feel him. Behind the trees, in that direction."

"What's going on?" Maka asked, slightly hesitant. "Is it another Reaper?"

Soul shook his head. "No. Someone's close to dying."

Wide eyed, the young woman had no time to ask anything else as she was hurried along by her two escorts. Tsubaki led the way as they rushed from the carriage towards the wooded area just a few yards away. Maka was practically dragged along as Soul tugged at her arm, the two of them fast walking in order to keep up with the fleet footed Tsubaki. Watching as she disappeared into the woods thick woods ahead, they soon were enveloped in brush as well. The veiled sun was blocked out for a few moments before emerging quickly out the other end, where they were once again greeted by ill placed rays of sunlight. Maka shielded her eyes as Soul did the same. Neither noticed that their leader had stopped dead in her tracks until they bumped into her accidentally.

"Tsubaki...?"

Maka waited for an answer, but none came. The Reaper didn't so much as look back, her head and eyes instead fallen towards the ground in front of her. Soul made not a sound and motioned for the blonde to stay put, an order which she had no intention of obeying. Curiosity had already caught hold of her, and Tsubaki's frozen demeanor only added to her interest. So despite her protector's shock as he realized she was no longer behind him, Maka didn't stop even as he reached out to pull her back in. And even as he had taken hold of her arm yet again to remove her from her from Tsubaki's side, it was already too late. Soul knew from the way her mouth hung slack and eyes seemed empty that Maka had already seen too much.

Tsubaki fell to her knee, inspecting the motionless body as her associate reeled in the young woman behind her. As she fiddled with the fallen man in front of her, Soul pulled Maka to the side and clutched her arm tightly. Almost in a daze, she didn't react at all to his touch. Her eyes seemed to focus on something in the distance, as if looking past him even as he stood right in front of her. Soul found himself clutching her even tighter, realizing that this must have been the first time she'd ever seen someone like this before. Though, to be fair, most people hadn't.

He whispered into her ear. "You alright?"

"...Is _he_ going to be?" she replied, almost sick from the image still burned in her head.

"Tsubaki's checking him right now, we'll find out in a second. Just breathe for a minute."

Maka's chest couldn't rise fast enough in a desperate attempt to find air, but there just didn't seem to be enough to fully calm her. Soul remained with her patiently as she took some more breaths, with each one seeming to bring her back to her senses just a little bit more. When Maka's eyes focused on his own after a few more seconds of waiting, he smiled in relief know that she was back to somewhat normal.

"Stay here this time," Soul ordered softly.

This time, he received confirmation. Maka nodded slowly, finding small comfort in his eyes before he broke off their brief gaze. She stayed put off to the side as he left her to return back to Tsubaki's side, the latter already returning to her feet. As Soul approached, the body that had caused Maka so much grief again caught his eye. Getting another good look at it, he understood why she was so unsettled by it. Lightning had done a number on him, the Reaper thought to himself grimly. It was almost eerie how half of his body looked perfectly fine, while the other half was blackened and charred beyond recognition. Smells of burnt flesh hung over him, giving the area a distinct scent of death.

He looked to Tsubaki, who simply shook her head. "Is he alive?"

"Just barely. He needs immediate medical attention."

"We're in the middle of nowhere, Tsubaki..."

"..._Meaning_, he's probably a goner."

Before turning around to look at the face he knew was waiting for him, Soul gave a heavy sigh. Sure enough, as he spun around to find Maka in the same spot he had left her, she was staring at him with a look of utmost somberness. Knowing she would want to help the poor guy, he struggled with what to do next. She obviously heard Tsubaki's last statement, so what was the best course of action to take? There was no way in hell they'd be able to find him help in time, but if he didn't at least try then it'd probably scar Maka for life. Then of course there was a third option, one that had been nagging at him since the moment he'd caught wind of its scent. But that wasn't really an option...not with her standing right there behind him.

Ultimately, Soul looked to the man sprawled out on the ground. Stony faced, he stared for a long while as Tsubaki and Maka looked on silently. The former watched her fellow Reaper warily, noticing the solid look in his eyes as if coming to a conclusion in his mind. Maka was left wondering to herself just what exactly they were going to do with this man? Stick with him till he died and bury him? Take him with them and try to find some place nearby that would treat him? Both seemed like the only options, and for a moment she thought that Soul would soon choose one of them.

He surprised her though when, instead of opening his mouth to say something, he knelt down and reached his hand over the burnt man's chest. Maka watched him curiously, not noticing as Tsubaki warily did the same. In a moment, the young woman's mouth again drew agape as Soul did something she couldn't understand. His hand disappeared, seemingly into the man's torso, only to reappear a second later with a small blue orb clutched firmly between his fingers. Maka held her breath, somehow knowing exactly what it was. The way Soul seemed to eagerly fiddle with it in his hand seemed to cement her suspicions, especially when she caught the hungry look that returned to his face since the last she'd seen it.

"Soul...?" she asked meekly, her heart breaking at the thought of what he was considering.

The Reaper snapped his head towards her, eyes wide in surprise. "Yeah...what is it?"

Maka swallowed the knot in her throat. "...What's that thing in your hand?"

"...You can see this?" Soul breathed, pointing to the little blue orb.

Maka nodded faintly, her green eyes wavering in the cloudy, muffled sunlight. Soul stared back at her for a moment, before letting his eyes fall to the perfectly shaped sphere in his hand. Drool hung from the corners of his mouth, but instead of succumbing to the urges that clawed at him, the Reaper weakly took his sleeve and wiped the liquid from his face. Before the thought of swallowing the nearly-dead man's soul could resurface, Soul closed his eyes and gave a pained growl. Tsubaki watched from behind as the pale eyed Reaper raised his hand high into the air and brought it down full force, again disappearing into the laying man's torso. He retracted it just as quickly, the blue orb nowhere to be found.

Grinding his teeth, Soul wasted no time in carefully picking the dying man up in his arms, bridal style as he turned and headed immediately back for the carriage. Maka held her breath as before he walked off, the Reaper gave her one of his toothy grins through the beads of sweat hanging from his face. Soul gave no such look back to Tsubaki however, knowing full well what her reaction would be towards his decision. She was an optimist, but not stupid. Tsubaki was a professional killer and knew that death awaited everyone. To waste time on this man would be to waste time on The Grim. He should've just eaten his soul.

Despite the knowledge of his decision and the eventual conversation that would arise later because of it, Soul continued his trek towards Enrique and the cab, not stopping at all to wait for either woman. It wasn't until he had disappeared past the trees that Maka and Tsubaki found it necessary to follow him, both struggling to catch up with him while looking at each other with faces that words could not give justice to.

"Enrique! Get the horses ready, we need to hurry!" Soul shouted out ahead of them.

By the time they emerged out from the woods, the young woman and her escort were met with the sight of Soul already opening up the carriage door. With a loud grunt he eased the battered man into the cab, placing him so that he lay flat on an entire section of seat. The Reaper's back to them, he had no idea that Maka and Tsubaki had quickly closed the gap between them. When he turned around, they were already there, standing as if awaiting some kind of orders.

"I take it you're going to find this man some help?" Tsubaki asked carefully, grasping one arm behind her back.

"That's the plan," Soul replied briskly, looking towards the cabby. "Did you hear that, Enrique?"

The diminutive driver raised a thumb up in confirmation. "Next stop, I got it!"

Nodding back, Soul then turned his attention to Maka and Tsubaki. Quickly motioning for them to get back into the carriage, he stepped aside to allow both women passage inside. The raven haired of the the two gave him a quick, unreadable glance before filing inside. Soul in turn sucked in air as she passed by him, feeling her stare, but said nothing as she took her seat. He then looked to Maka, again motioning her inside before turning around to make his way back to his seat next to the cabby. But before he could take another step forward, a hand caught his arm and kept him in place.

Soul looked over his shoulder and found Maka giving a timid smirk, motioning with her head for him to enter the carriage with her. A snort formed in the back of his throat, but he held it back. Time was of the essence, and any talking would only exacerbate the situation. Soul immediately complied and hopped inside the cab before Maka. She followed him in, with the door closing behind her being the signal for Enrique to whip the horses up into a frenzy. Within moments of her sitting down, Maka and the others were rattled by the carriage suddenly beginning to move.

Again the road was theirs, only this time they had an unexpected passenger. With the lightning struck man taking up an entire row of seat, that left only one for the three travelers to share. Maka admitted to herself a few minutes later that inviting Soul inside was not the smartest idea. There was only enough room to sit both her and Tsubaki comfortably, with Soul in between them causing their space to become exceedingly cramped. Amenities aside however, Maka couldn't have cared less. Though the man sitting across from them was on the edge of death itself, at least he was going to receive help. Unlike in the forest where his soul had almost become dinner for the person sitting right next to her, which thankfully he decided against.

All the more reason why she found herself resting her head on his shoulder. It mostly had to do with the fact that their bodies were all smashed together as it was and it was more comfortable to give in and fall into place than fight it. Not to mention the fact that this emotional roller coaster of a trip had sucked the life right out of Maka. Soul didn't question it when he felt the woman's head roll onto him, in fact taking a small amount of comfort in her presence. Despite this though, he couldn't help but turn his head away and look towards Tsubaki. She immediately gave him her full attention, noticing the way his razor sharp teeth poked through as he bit his lower lip. As if holding something back, he struggled to say anything. He was still hungry, and Tsubaki could tell from the glaze in his eyes that it was slowly killing him.

She mouthed the words silently, "_Are you alright?"_

He just smiled back, and shook his head, no.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enrique is Tezca Tlipoca's meister in the manga. He's a monkey though, so I took some artistic liberties lol


	11. The Inn

The stupid cat wouldn't get off of her.

Pets were something she'd never had the privilege of experiencing, though she couldn't really blame it on her parents. Honestly, Maka just held a strange aversion to four legged creatures, especially those of the feline variety. There were plenty of strays in Loew, and it was almost impossible to _not_ run into three or four during any given week. Despite this, even as a child, the blonde never had a moment where she wished to take one home with her. Maka was pe rfectly content with being on her own, so why should she have sought comfort in a flea ridden creature anyway?

Perhaps it was karma then that this cat was particularly attracted to _her _lap, out of all the others that were so much more inviting. The owner of the inn, still cradling the baby whom had awoken a few minutes before, couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her guest cringing from the animal's touch. She watched as Maka tried to not so subtly brush the creature off her legs, which only resulted in a slightly irritated cat as it held on desperately to its spot. First gentle, then forceful, the blonde struggled further until finally, after realizing nothing would work, she slunk back into her chair in defeat.

"I think she likes you!" The innkeeper giggled, still rocking the infant in her arms to sleep.

Maka grumbled, crossing her arms in agitation as the cat stretched itself out on her lap. "Wonderful, Mrs. Knightly."

"Well, maybe she just wants to comfort you?" the woman replied soothingly. "After all, that friend of yours almost didn't make it."

Nodding, Maka couldn't help but to sneak a peek over her shoulder at one of the doors at the very end of the hallway. Since her, Tsubaki, and Soul had arrived in a hurry at the lowly inn, that one room had been the focal point of the entire building. Mr. Knightly, who by some strange miracle was a local doctor by trade, had immediately sealed the lightning-struck man in. Tsubaki apparently had some medical knowledge as well, so she was allowed to assist him. Soul, on the other hand, hadn't been seen by Maka since they'd arrived.

That was well over five hours ago. Outside, the sun was just barely visible off in the distance, noticeable only because of one well placed window in the lobby where she and Mrs. Knightly sat. The innkeeper had been kind enough to sit with her the entire time, being that no one else was staying at the deserted place to hold her attention anyway. And so it was just them, for five hours, left to themselves to make idle conversation. Actually, it seemed to do wonders for Maka's morale. Though, the cat had made its home on her lap and soured her mood. The inkeeper told her up front that the creature was merely a stray they had picked up a few days ago, and that it didn't belong to them. She probably told her this in order to, Maka grimaced, prod her to take the beast with her.

Feline troubles aside, the situation was far less worrisome than she thought it would be. From the moment they had entered the inn, Maka knew that everything was going to be just fine. Mr. Knightly seemed like a smart, capable person and his wife was no different. While he was in the room, monitoring the wounded stranger, she balanced being a mother and innkeeper, while at the same time comforting Maka and occasionally Enrique whenever he popped up from wherever he was hiding. It was inspiring seeing a woman that strong out in the middle of nowhere, and it reminded her faintly of her mother before she moved away from Loew all those years ago. After having left her no-good father...

"...Maka? Is something the matter?" Mrs. Knightly blinked, put off by Maka's sudden stare.

"Oh! No!" the young woman flustered, shaking her head. "Nothing at all!"

The keeper smiled. "You seem like a smart girl, Maka. But you think too much. Just relax for the moment, okay?"

Flustered even more, the younger woman silently agreed. It was good advice, she just had to take it seriously. Or, not seriously? Perhaps that was her problem lately, that things out of her control were causing her more grief than they were actually worth. Who cared if Tsubaki was older than the town of Loew? Or that The Grim was only a few days away? It wasn't causing anyone problems yet, so why worry?

Suddenly she found herself easing a little bit more into her chair. The cat on her lap started to purr. Absently, Maka took her hand and began stroking the animal's back softly. A hearty rattle tickled her skin, though she hardly noticed. Maka's attention instead belonged to Mrs. Knightly and the little bundle wrapped up in her arms, the little thing long since returned to sleep since she had first woken up. Maka couldn't help but to inwardly gush at the sight of the infant sucking on her own thumb.

"Wanna hold her?" Mrs. Knightly surprised her by asking, already pushing her chair back to get up.

Before the protests could immediately roll of her tongue, the woman was already standing up and making her way towards Maka. The blonde's chest tightened at the thought of carrying the little thing, but before she knew it, Mrs. Knightly was standing over her with the baby carefully outstretched in her arms. And despite her reservations about taking the little girl, Maka immediately snatched her up in the fear that she may be dropped or something. Soon it was her, the baby, and the cat, all sharing one tiny chair. They couldn't have made a stranger trio.

But, those thoughts quickly took a backseat to the whirlwind of emotions that holding Mrs. Knightly's baby stirred up. In utter amazement, Maka realized that, as she looked down at the passed out child in her arms, it was the first time she'd ever truly held a baby before. Loew was a dying town, so few children had been born outside of her own generation. The one's that had, it wasn't like she could hold some random strangers baby. And she was an only child, so the opportunity just never presented itself to her. But now...

"We decided to name her Kirin," the innkeeper smiled over her shoulder, reaching for the baby's cheeks.

Maka sucked in air, noticing how the baby subconsciously melted at her mother's touch. "She's beautiful, Mrs. Knightly."

"Yes, well, she got _that_ from me!" the woman chuckled, running her hand over her child's blonde hair. "Her eating habits she got from John."

The little girl in Maka's arms shifted, her eyes immediately thrust open awake to reveal their pinkish-red tint to the young woman for the first time. Silently, for a moment, the two stared at each other as Mrs. Knightly watched. Maka smiled, unable to contain the warm feeling she got just from looking at the little thing. Kirin, after staring back up at her in confusion, turned towards her mother. She started to heave a little, as if warning that soon she would start to cry. Luckily, before that could happen, the innkeeper gently took the baby away from Maka and headed back for her seat.

Once settled, Mrs. Knightly fiddled with Kirin for a minute or two. Coos and baby talk came from both mother and child, before finally the latter became tired again. As if on some internal clock, it took only seconds for the little one to fall right back asleep. Maka laughed quietly at how quickly she had slipped out of consciousness, with the other woman's knowing smile telling her, yes, it really was that easy.

"You're a natural, you know that?" the woman mused, placing Kirin's head on her shoulder. "She didn't cry or anything."

"I'm sure she was just too tired and confused to care," Maka thought aloud, averting her eyes modestly.

Mrs. Knightly waived her off. "Nonsense. I'm sure when you have a baby, the little thing's going to be lucky to have a mom like you."

Blood rushed immediately to Maka's cheeks, causing her to turn away and hide the obvious embarrassment that plastered itself to her face. Hoping desperately that her host wouldn't notice, she pretended to look out the window at the now half-hidden sun in the horizon. Trying to preoccupy herself, she wondered where exactly Soul was at the moment. She hadn't seen him in almost six hours now, and before that they had barely even talked to each other. Was he even still in the building? Or did he go outside? For the life of her, she couldn't even remember.

Caught again in her usual contemplation, the blonde didn't even realize Mrs. Knightly was watching her with interest. Maka stared absently out the window, a doleful look on her face as she casually began stroking the cat on her lap again, much to the creature's delight. Letting her head fall over to the side, the innkeeper smiled at her guest while she became lost in her thoughts. For the sake of being polite, she said not a word until Maka snapped herself out of it a few moments later. Realizing she had zoned out in front of company however, the blush again came back into her cheeks.

"You're wondering where that man went, right?" the keeper deduced, correctly. "He left a while ago, I'm not exactly sure where though."

Maka practically groaned, turning to mush in her seat at the thought of her being so easy to read. "How did you know?"

"Let's see," Mrs. Knightly feigned thoughtfulness. "We talked about babies, you got embarrassed, then depressed, and _then_ you looked outside to where _he _went."

"I hope you're not implying something!" the blonde piped meekly, red running rampant throughout her face.

The innkeeper smiled smugly. "Why would I, when you're doing such a fine job on your own?"

Biting her tongue to keep from saying anything further that would damn her, Maka only grumbled as she looked away with narrowed eyes. Mrs. Knightly's clear laughter definitely encouraged her to avert her gaze, but somehow she still found herself trying to peek at the innkeeper from the corner of her vision. A motherly smile, much like Tsubaki's, painted itself vividly on the woman's face. And just in the way that she always seemed to ease at the presence of the aforementioned Reaper, so too did Maka begin to relax at the sight her host's pleasant expression. It almost wasn't fair, how easily she was swayed.

"How old are you, Maka?" the woman inquired, both suddenly and simply.

Maka raised a brow, slightly put off by the question. "I'm twenty-four. Why do you ask?"

"Far be it from me to pry, mind you." Mrs. Knightly cautioned. "It's just, that's about the same age I met John."

Already knowing where the other woman was going with this, Maka shook her head. "Soul and I aren't...he's my bodyguard."

The innkeeper nodded understandingly, though only long enough for her guest to feel comfortable enough to let her eyes fall towards the cat in her lap. After that, she in turn let the baby in her arms steal her attention away. Neither looked up, nor said a word, as they passed the time silently. And as Maka continued to scratch the back of her feline friend's ear, she couldn't stop from biting the inside of her cheek at the thought of where Soul was at the moment. How could he just get up and leave like that? If she had a book on her, the moment he walked in it'd be lodged in the front of his skull.

"...You know, John was my doctor before we got married." Mrs. Knightly mentioned offhandedly, without looking up from Kirin.

Maka blinked before looking up at the woman across from her, noticing how she purposely didn't try to look back. The baby kept her eyes glued, but the smile on Mrs. Knightly's face told Maka that she was obviously having too much fun with this. Still, a meek little smirk of amusement fought its way through Maka's lips. One which, if she had looked up to notice, would've told the innkeeper that her persuasion was working like a charm. They remained silent, however, if simply for the sole fact that there was nothing else left to say between them.

The two women enjoyed the short remainder of their seclusion. After few more minutes of peace, the moment was interrupted as the creaking of a heavy door. Maka instantly reeled, spinning around in her chair quickly enough to find Soul before he even entered the building. Mrs. Knightly looked up as well, though late enough to where the door was already closing behind him. The Reaper walked in rather briskly, as if having come from someplace in a hurry. Either that, or he was _going to _someplace in a hurry.

Despite the obvious rush, he stopped dead in his tracks at the first sight of the two women sitting there in the lobby. Maka found that the night had heightened her senses once more, turning Soul's hair a brilliant white from her perspective. The man's newly red eyes stared wearily back as he stood stiffly in place, hands jammed deep into his pockets. Their gazes locked for a brief moment, before his own fell to the floor just as quickly. Maka gripped the back of her seat, thrown off by just how different his demeanor was. For some reason, he didn't seem like his usual lively self.

"Soul?" The cat in her lap stretched itself out and meowed, as if it was the one being addressed. "Where have you been all this time?"

"I just needed to get some air," he replied tiredly, before lifting his head up with what seemed like a great amount of effort.

Though she bit her tongue, Maka wanted desperately to ask what was wrong. She could tell from the way his forehead beaded with sweat that Soul wasn't feeling well, or at the very least was troubled by something. And though he couldn't hide it from her, the Reaper tried his very best to at least act like nothing was the matter. It was for this reason that Maka said nothing. She knew that if he went through this much effort to conceal it, then point it out in front of Mrs. Knightly would only complicate the situation. Something which Soul, she assumed, probably wanted to avoid.

Thus, their conversation ended before it even began. Soul nodded in the women's direction and immediately made a b-line for the hallway, out of sight. Maka hung her head, knowing full well that whatever it was, she'd have to confront Soul about it sooner or later. Tsubaki had unknowingly entrusted her with his well being after their conversation in the carriage; Telling her she was his only friend, it wasn't something Maka would take lightly or for granted. Soul had done so much for her already, it was time for her to give a little back to him.

"He seems rather ill, Maka." Mrs. Knightly said solemnly as soon as he left.

Maka sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know. Maybe your husband can look at him in the morning?"

"Possibly," the innkeeper pondered. "Although, he and your other friend have been in there a long time. I have no idea when they'll come out."

"I suppose we'll just figure it out in the morning. In the meantime, it's late. We should probably set up for the night."

The innkeeper nodded, knowing full well that she couldn't rock Kirin to sleep forever. The two of them stood up and stretched their backs, with the stray cat immediately running off to places unknown. They pushed in their chairs and, after Maka waited for the innkeeper to take the lead, the pair filed into the hallway opposite where Mr. Knightly and Tsubaki were cooped up with the injured man. After about halfway, Mrs. Knightly stopped to take out a ring of keys that dangled loosely behind her apron. Maka watched from behind as she effortlessly found the right key to the door, which swung open at her push. Though pitch black, the inkeeper motioned for her guest to enter, which the latter did apprehensively.

Mrs. Knightly followed right behind, but not before plucking one of the large, thick candles from the hallway to light their way. Ghastly shadows formed along the walls as they made their way to the middle of the room, all of which were quickly drowned out by the light of several oil lamps spread throughout the room as the innkeeper lit them. The blackness gave way to the view of a charming little bed and dresser, with a small table in the corner that seemed only big enough for two. Mrs. Knightly blew the fire away from her wick, still somehow keeping Kirin from waking up at all.

"Well, this will be your room for the night. Don't worry about payment, I think you three have been through enough for today."

Maka smiled politely, genuinely grateful at the woman's generosity. "Thank you, Mrs. Knightly. But I'm sure Tsubaki will pay no matter what."

"No offense, Maka, but she doesn't have much say in the matter." the innkeeper winked. "I'm not one to give out freebies, but when I do, it's best to just accept it."

Maka smirked, knowing to not argue any further. She merely nodded her head and waved goodbye as Mrs. Knightly walked out of the room with Kirin in tow, leaving her all to herself as the door closed shut. Being alone, there was little more she could do than to start getting ready for bed. With a tired sigh, Maka realized that all of her things were still in the carriage. And being that she had no idea where Enrique or Soul were at the moment, combined with the fact that she _really _didn't want to go through the trouble, the young woman decided to just wear the same clothes in the morning.

She started to strip off the old things and place them neatly atop the dresser across from her bed. The entire time, Maka gazed out the window through a tiny break in the curtains to find a bright moon shining down through the glass. Its pearly white tint captivated her, the sight of it causing her to think of her equally white haired friend. Bittersweet feelings bubbled up from the crevices at the thought of Soul. He was snarky, sarcastic, blunt and crass. Completely counter to that, he was also protective, caring, and always mindful of how she felt. So much so, in fact, that he'd stopped himself from eating the man's soul earlier...Probably because he knew it's what she wanted...

...Maka's throat tightened a little as the realization slowly dawned on her. Soul's words from yesterday morning echoed at the forefront of her thoughts; _Breakfast should hold me over for now._

Was _now _over and done with? Granted, the meal was yesterday, but he had practically eaten his own body weight in food. Surely that must have staved off his hunger enough? Then again, the way he looked at the man's soul in the forest, it sent shivers down Maka's spine. Soul seemed so desperate, if not for food, then some form of relief. She had no idea how he was feeling, or even if he was in pain. Just how long could a Reaper like him go without eating that one thing that seemed to keep him going? According to Tsubaki it had been longer than a week. How much longer then could he manage-?

"-Maka...?" a hoarse voice called out from the hallway, interrupting her racing thoughts. "...Are you in there...?"

It was Soul. She knew it was. And from the way his voice sounded, he seemed ever worse off than he had not even ten or so minutes before. She jumped a little as a solid thump hit the outside of her door, followed by a streaking sound that ran downwards on the wood. When the same loud thud could be heard again, only this time on the floor, Maka's heart sank when she realized that Soul must have slid along the door to the ground. She quickly scrambled to put her clothes back on, hoping to check up on him, but was again stopped by the sound of another thud against her door.

"Please..." Soul heaved, a bestial growl rumbling from the pit of his stomach. "...We really need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kirin was an OC from a story another author and myself co-wrote a long time ago. I believe her and her parents are the only OC's in this story.


	12. The Bodyguard's Protector

For the first time since he'd revealed himself to her, Maka was the one playing protector. A fact that, despite his gratefulness, irked Soul to no end.

It gnawed at him just how inverted things had become in such a short amount of time, being that not even a few hours before _he _was the one looking out for _her_. And as Soul sat there on the edge of the bed, Maka's hand pressed gently to his forehead, he couldn't help but scowl inwardly to himself at just how pathetic he looked right now. Like a child, he waited impatiently as the woman standing in front of him took his temperature. Even though he'd already told her that he didn't feel hot, she still went ahead and did it anyway. Maybe it was the sweat on his forehead, or the flush of his cheeks that convinced her otherwise. Either way, when Maka had opened the door to let him in, she caused the biggest fuss.

Then again, that had more to do with the fact that he was still sitting against it at the time. The back of his head still ached from when he fell backwards, smashing his skull against the bare wooden floor below. Maka had scrambled, trying to pick him off the floor while he was still reeling. Of course, he was pretty heavy compared to her, so it turned into more of her dragging him _across _the floor. Then there was the immediate string of apologies, another offer to help, and soon enough, somehow, he wound up picking himself up and took a seat firmly at the edge of the bed. Maka, thankfully, stopped trying to help him.

Now that he thought about it...Maka hadn't really done much protecting, yet.

Though, Soul had to admit he felt a little better being around her. The hand on his forehead took the edge off a little and he eased into her touch without hesitation. After her search for a fever came back empty, though, the Reaper fell backwards on the bed as he clutched his stomach tightly, deciding to stare up at the ceiling in silence for a moment before getting on with whatever he needed to say. Maka said not a word, patiently waiting for her friend to start. For a minute, the air between them was peaceful and still. Then, finally, Soul opened his mouth, starting with a string of words Maka did not expect to hear.

"I was lying when I told you I had no name."

...What was that? Maka blinked, contemplating whether or not she had just heard Soul correctly. A couple seconds passed, and still not a word came from her. From the corner of his eye, Soul looked over at her and waited with baited breath. She dismissed the thought of Soul lying to her outright. It was almost unfathomable that someone who had earned all of her trust in such a short amount of time could willingly do such a thing, and even less believable that he would do it over something like _that._

All the more reason why she found herself frowning when she finally looked down at the Reaper's gaze. His eyes told the story, the way they stared blankly into her own in a distant glaze, brows furrowed into a frown that didn't register with his lips. Maka's chest swelled with a mixture of emotions at the sight, none of them telling her to accept the silent apology that she was receiving. Hurt, saddened, angry, and above all confused, the woman made her feelings clear with a scowl that sent a noticeable twinge in Soul's posture. He knew the berating was about to begin.

"Why would you lie to me!?" A fist curled at her side, one she was ready to unleash on his skull.

The man sat up immediately. In his gut, he knew he had to explain himself. Fast. "At the time, I didn't mean to-!"

"-I've been calling you Soul this entire time!" she cut him off hotly, livid pink dusting her face. "I thought I gave you a name!"

"You did, Maka! And I'm grateful for it, too!" Soul stood up, trying to approach her. She took several steps back, staring daggers into him.

Maka bit her lower lip hard, fighting back the urge to scream and wake the others. "You never make _any_ sense! You _just_ told me you didn't have one!"

The Reaper threw his arms behind his head, growling to himself as he turned to look at the moon through the blackened window. Maka's fingers twitched as she glared at him, scorn oozing from her eyes. Words mounted in the back of her throat, ready to assail him. However, none of them had the opportunity to make it past her lips before Soul reeled around yet again. This time, when he approached her, she didn't try to avoid his presence. Instead Maka's eyes burrowed into his own, the latter not backing down as he brought his face closer to hers in a desperate attempt to explain himself.

"Technically, I have a name..." he spoke slowly, as if trying to find the right words to say. "...The only problem is, I don't know what it is."

Immediately Soul relaxed when he caught sight of Maka's open stare, the anger and bitterness melting away slowly from her eyes. Grateful knowing that he probably wouldn't be punched in the face, at least not right now, a relieved smile eased onto his face. The Reaper broke away from her and plopped onto the bed once more, only this time he patted the spot right next to him. Still wary, Maka hesitated for a moment before relenting. Their knees bumped as she took up her seat, but Soul said nothing. Maka kept her hands in her lap, slightly embarrassed at having snapped the way she did, but also still a little distant.

"...How can you not know your own name?" she asked, eyes narrowed in thought. It was a question directed at both him and herself.

Soul shrugged with one shoulder. "I don't know really know anything about myself, Maka. I can't remember very far back, not even how old I am."

"But Tsubaki-!" Maka blurted out, before hesitating. She studied Soul's face, and found his earnest stare reassuring. "...She said that you were over two hundred years old."

The Reaper raised a brow, but quickly waived her off. He gave a tired growl before falling backwards onto the bed again, eyes closed. "Figures Tsubaki would know. She works for _him,_ after all."

Frowning, Maka absently fell into place right next to him. She found that he was too lost with himself to notice her presence until he opened his eyes again and found her face right next to his. Soul's smile returned at the sight of the blonde laying there with him, her hair sprawled out messily between them. She forced a tiny smile of her own, though it quickly disappeared along with the Reaper's as a rumbling sound echoed throughout the room. They waited in silence while Soul's stomach finished its hungry call, with both eyeing the other awkwardly after it had finished.

"The bastard knows something, Maka," Soul mumbled quietly, eyes slit in thought. "I don't like him."

The woman reached for her protector's hand. He didn't fight it as their fingers intertwined. "You're talking about The Grim?"

Soul's face contorted immediately at the mention of him. "He's keeping things from me. The fact that Tsubaki knows how old I am proves it."

"...So that's why you didn't answer me before," Maka mused, remembering their previous conversations. "And here I thought you were trying to be mysterious."

The Reaper forced a mild smirk. Maka returned the gesture. "There's a lot things I haven't told you. Not because I don't want to, but because I just don't have the answers."

On the outside, Maka kept her eyes locked with Soul's. Internally, her head whirled as she tried sorting through the puzzle pieces that were slowly falling into place. She suddenly understood why Tsubaki had told her Soul didn't get along with The Grim, and why so many of her questions had been given ambiguous answers. This entire time, she had thought she had Soul figured out for the most part. Now though, Maka couldn't keep up with all of the things that she didn't know about him, or that he failed to know himself.

_He's snarky, sarcastic, crude, and blunt. He's also protective, caring, and mindful of how she felt._

This is what she had told herself not too long ago, though now she wondered if it these labels still applied to the man whom had changed her life in such a short amount of time. Part of her wanted to believe that this newfound information changed nothing, while the other part of her bitterly knew that it changed _everything. _And as she looked up from entangled fingers to find comfort in soft red eyes, Maka's heart thumped just a little bit faster in distress. Just what on earth did this mean for the two of them? For Tsubaki and, probably most importantly, The Grim?

"What's he like, Soul?" she asked, barely above a whisper. "Please...You can tell me, right?"

The Reaper shook his head. "When he assigned me to you, he said not to tell you anything about him."

"But he isn't even here, dammit!" Maka growled, catching Soul off guard. "He won't even know that you told me anything!"

"...Tsubaki's here, if you haven't noticed. She might be your friend, but she's bound to him. Even more so than I am, since she's his herald and all."

Another rumble suddenly bellowed from the Reaper's stomach, only this time a cold sweat came along with it. It beaded his forehead as a noticeable cringe swept over him, with his grip on Maka's hand immediately becoming much tighter. The young woman was taken aback by Soul's sudden agony, the sound of his hunger making her own stomach churn with pity. Likewise, the gaping stare his red eyes gave off told her just how much worse his condition had become. The normally cool and collected man made no attempt to hide it anymore; His body was eating itself.

The growls continued for much longer this time, but Maka wouldn't sit idly and watch. She wrapped her free arm around the stiff man in an attempt to provide him a small amount of comfort. It seemed to work, though only slightly. Teeth clenched, Soul let a heavy breath escape his mouth as the blonde pulled him in closer. She released his hand and instead snaked her arm underneath his neck, forming a tight embrace as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. The Reaper shuddered in the woman's arms, though he soon relaxed as his stomach settled again and the room fell silent once more. Soul gave a single, wavering heave, his hot breath trickling along her exposed skin as the two lay there on the bed in relative peace.

"...I want your soul, Maka." he pined in defeat, his body limp and tired in her arms.

"I know you do," she replied soothingly. The woman buried her face in Soul's soft, white hair. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Though she could both hear and feel Soul's audible gulp, Maka could tell from the smile that formed along her skin that he was going to be alright. Despite this however, she knew that he was still too weak to do anything more than continue to lay in her arms, at least for a little while longer. She could do this all night, though, and thus the two remained motionless, save for Maka shifting around a bit to make their positions a little more comfortable. Soul didn't seem to mind, although the woman feared it was partially due to the fact he was struggling to control himself in her presence.

She took it upon herself to reassure the both of them. She gave a big smile into his hair. "I'm not afraid of you, Soul."

"...Then you're a lot stronger than I am," the man murmured softly. Her neck vibrated from his timber voice. "Because I'm terrified."

"Terrified of what?" Maka asked gingerly, pulling away just enough to look into Soul's weary eyes. At first he avoided her stare completely.

After a moment however, the Reaper finally looked back up at her. He suddenly felt far smaller than usual. "...Of losing you, because of my stupid mistakes."

Maka smiled warmly. The expression confused Soul, despite him having his own tiny smirk to show her in response. She said nothing, her only communication being their foreheads coming together as the two continued to stare into each other's eyes. Soul's stomach gurgled a third time but he didn't lurch or seem to be in pain, or at least he didn't show it at all, Only a slight wince gave any indication of his discomfort before the sound died down yet again. All of his focus and attention was instead devoted to Maka, who didn't ease up on her hold on him. On the contrary, she brought him in even tighter as his breath tickled her lips.

"...When I first came here," Soul sighed, his face mere centimeters from hers. "I had it set in my head that you'd be going back to Loew."

"I'm assuming because you were afraid of what would happen? If we kept going and...you got hungry?" Maka guessed, correctly.

The man in her arms nodded with a weak grin. "Honestly though, I don't know if I have it in me to ask you to leave."

"And why is that?" she smiled back. Her face, hair, demeanor...everything, caused Soul's stomach to churn.

Despite that, the Reaper remained cool. He pressed their foreheads together. "Because I need you."

This time, it was Maka who was taken aback. Not expecting that kind of answer, she zoned out for a moment as Soul's smile slowly devolved into the kind of devilish grin she hadn't seen from him in a while. He nudged her head one last time with his own, again letting his hot breath mingle with her own before snaking himself out of her embrace. Their tender moment ended prematurely, Maka found herself huffing as Soul sat up in the bed. He stretched his arms above him as a few pops came from his back and neck. The man grunted, his elbows falling to his lap as he sat hunched over. Maka followed him up.

She scooted up close next to him, her hand laid over his in an attempt to recapture the lost moment. Soul only looked down at her from the corner of his eyes, another grin curling from his lips. Maka immediately retracted, her lips pursed in annoyance at her friend's seeming ignorance. He surprised her however when he leaned in close to her face once more, as if knowing that's what she wanted. Whether or not she did, Maka sucked in air as their combined breaths mingled once more for a fleeting moment, heat dripping off one another's faces. The woman's face flushed faintly pink, though the thought to pull back from him didn't register at all with her.

"I've never met anyone as scary and comforting as you are." Soul sneered, before breaking off for the last time.

Maka's went full magenta, only this time in anger and embarrassment. "What's that supposed to mean!"

"It's your eyes, really." he replied absently, picking himself off the bed. "They're just like The Grim's."

"...They are?" The blonde immediately settled, realizing she had a golden opportunity before her. "How so, exactly?"

Soul cracked his neck, before shuddering again at another hungered growl. "Intelligent. Refined. Powerful. Only, yours are different. I don't see myself as a _target_ every time you look at me."

Though his last comments came out as a muffled grunt, it didn't stop Soul from catching himself and freezing in place. Maka tilted her head, watching him as he spun around to face her with a look of utmost horror. Never before had she seen him make a face like that and for a moment she wondered what it was for, until realizing suddenly that he had just done the _one_ thing he wasn't supposed to do. Immediately, she held a finger to her mouth and nodded, giving him a smile that reassured Soul slightly.

"Tsubaki isn't here," Maka eased, giving him a wink. "And I won't tell anyone. Promise."

"Yeah, I know." he replied shakily, running a hand through his hair. "We should be fine, right-?"

A sudden knock at the door sent Soul and Maka throwing their heads in its direction. Both wide eyed in pure terror, they waited to see if what they had just heard was actually real. At such a late hour, no one else should have been up. All the more reason why the two figured they had just imagined the entire thing, until a woman's voice called out from beyond the wood. Soul whispered a _shit_ underneath his breath, immediately recognizing it as belonging to the Night Stalker herself. He spun around and looked to Maka, who seemed to show equal amounts panic.

"What do we do!?" she whispered hurriedly, time being of the essence.

Soul ruffled up his hair, trying to think quickly. "I don't know! She obviously heard us-!"

_"-Oh, Eater...I didn't know you were here as well. Well, I suppose that saves me the trouble of looking for you..."_

Caught mid-sentence, Soul had no time to recover. Instantly reeling back around to face the voice, he was greeted by Tsubaki's puzzled stare as she stood in the middle of the open doorway, her hand jiggling the doorknob in an attempt to preoccupy herself from the thought of him and Maka alone together in a room at night. It stayed dead silent between the three of them, no one giving a single inkling as to why they were there in the first place. Soul threw his hands into his pockets, averting his eyes from both women as he looked absently around the room. Tsubaki bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say. Left to herself on the bed, Maka let out a reserved sigh and decided to end the strange silence between them.

"Tsubaki?" she asked mildly, standing up from her seat. "Did you need something?"

The female Reaper nearly jumped at the sound of her name. "Oh! Yes, I came to tell you two about the man..."

Soul's brows immediately perked at the mention of the lightning struck stranger. "How is he? You were with him for quite a while."

Tsubaki took a deep breath before shaking her head grimly, her disheveled hair falling along either side of her head. Immediately Maka held a hand to her face, knowing before the Reaper even opened her mouth to speak that the man hadn't made it. And as the terrible news escaped Tsubaki's lips, Soul clenched a fist to his side as the bitter realization of the man's untimely death quickly began sinking in.

"I'm sorry you two. We did everything we could." she concluded tiredly, absently trying to fix her hair to make it look presentable.

Maka looked to the floor, hands held respectfully in front of her. "...We know you did, Tsubaki. Thank you."

"We knew it was a long shot, anyway," Soul mumbled aloud, trying to lessen the blow for everyone.

Tsubaki nodded her head. "It's been a long night...if you two will please excuse me."

Without waiting for acknowledgement, the raven haired woman pivoted with her heels and made her way back into the hallway. The door closed behind her soundly, leaving Soul and Maka to themselves as they looked at each other tiredly. The white haired man gave a heavy sigh before scratching the back of his head. To him, it was all such a waste. After all they, _he,_ had gone through to bring the man here to this inn, the stranger still ended up dying on them. Even worse, for a while it seemed as though he were going to pull through, though fate turned out to have other plans for him.

All the more reason why Maka seemed to take the news especially hard. Her eyes fell from his to the floor once more, brows furrowed in mourning as one hand gripped the other tightly. Soul shook his head. He reached down and gripped Maka by the shoulders, which at this point was his go-to way of trying to comfort her. She didn't look up though, in fact, her body became tense when another beastly growl called out from the Reaper's stomach. He winced, knowing now was not the time to be worrying her with his stupid hunger. If she had a problem with it though, she didn't show it.

"You alright?" he prodded, not knowing what else to say.

The young woman nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I can tell you're not, though."

"Don't worry about me," Soul grinned wearily. "My stomach doesn't tell me what to do."

Maka reached up to take his hands in hers, bringing them down, "Maybe you should listen to it a little more."

Puzzled, Soul cocked his head to the side. Maka gripped his hands tighter; She looked up at him, viridian mixing with scarlet as the two found themselves again suffused with one another. The sounds coming from the pit of Soul's stomach had ceased moments before, but a new feeling had replaced that void that it left behind. Again he was reminded of The Grim by Maka's powerful gaze, an otherworldly sort that made even the Reaper shiver under its presence. At the same time, Maka sorted through her own private thoughts. Lost in their contemplation, neither said anything.

There was a thought in Maka's head, one that the woman couldn't believe she was entertaining. Honestly, though...there wasn't anything wrong with it. The stranger was dead and, despite the powers both Soul and Tsubaki held over death, there seemed to be no way to reverse that. And though she would have liked to believe that Soul could keep himself in check, Maka knew that eventually, no matter how strong willed or stubborn he was, her Grigori soul would tempt him to go over the edge. Admittedly, she could maybe accept that...but the thought of Soul having to suffer with the guilt of committing such an act, well, it ultimately made the decision for her. Maka released her hold on Soul's hands and instead threw her arms around his stomach.

The Reaper recoiled as Maka crashed into him unexpectedly. She buried her face into his coat, leaving only her dirty blonde hair exposed. "Maka-?"

"-From now on, we're going to watch out for each other. It's my job to make sure you're okay so...please..." The woman took a deep breath. "Please eat that man's soul."


	13. The Grim

"Tsubaki, please tell me you have something to report this time. It's been four days and quite frankly, I'm not happy."

The Night Stalker shifted in place, her image reflected in the lone mirror that stood before a man enveloped completely in shadows. She could see nothing else other than the peering eyes of her employer as he stared coldly into the glass, them being the only source of light in that black void of a room, His faint outline traced itself against the dark, though just barely enough to make out his decent height. With him standing as tall as her, along with the fact that she knew he was not in a pleasant mood, Tsubaki couldn't help but to feel small in his leering presence.

"Lord Grim." she replied stiffly, her face just as tight. "I'm here to report that we've arrived at the edge of the desert, just as scheduled."

"As scheduled?" the man replied, a slight lilt in his voice. "I believe the last I heard, it would only take three days to arrive."

Tsubaki's lower lip disappeared ever so slightly. "We ran into...complications, during the first night, sir."

The Grim's bright eyes widened noticeably in the dark. "What complications, Tsubaki?"

"It was Eater, sir. He hadn't consumed any souls since his last report, either."

A tired, annoyed groan filtered through the shadowed man's nostrils. His eyes disappeared for a moment as he tried to process the information Tsubaki had just given him. The assassin meanwhile relaxed a little more, the sound of her master's annoyance putting her at ease for some reason. Perhaps it was because at times like these he seemed almost human, displaying emotions instead of giving off that constant, threatening demand for obedience. It was enough to bring the woman's usually misplaced smile back to her face, much to The Grim's confusion as his eyes revealed themselves again in the dark. He shook his head; For his personal assassin, Tsubaki was much too nice for her own good.

"Was Maka hurt at all?" he asked seriously, causing Tsubaki's smile to quickly fade.

She immediately shook her head. "No. A man in our care ended up dying. His soul has sustained him so far."

"Good." The Grim gave a noticeable sigh of relief. "Continue to monitor him though; I don't need him screwing all of this up."

Tsubaki nodded, though she knew nothing of what _ this _ meant. And despite her calm face in front of the powerful man, inwardly she winced at just how little he was telling her. She couldn't really say anything, being that he treated her and the other Reapers under him respectfully, but she knew nothing of his motives or just why exactly he decided to call upon Eater in the first place. Since when on earth did he actually _ care _for reports from anyone besides her? Even in the case of other Grigori guards breaking contact, he never requested an audience like he had done with Eater. A simple slap on the wrist during the next report in, that's all anyone ever received. So why was this situation so different...?

"-Tsubaki," the man interrupted, effectively breaking her train of thought. "Be careful around him."

The Night Stalker blinked, tilting her head to the side in confusion. "Of course, sir. But why the sudden call for safety?"

"Despite what you may have seen of him so far, do not underestimate his power." The Grim cautioned, his golden eyes slit in the darkness.

The raven haired woman nodded obediently. She didn't need to be told twice just how much a threat Eater could be if he suddenly became crazed with hunger. Being The Grim's personal assassin she was more privvy to knowledge than others, one such fact being that there was a reason why Eater was chosen as Maka's guard. She shuddered to remember the night they'd fought in the woods, where they'd given each other their all. Only, it was _ she _ who was giving her all, not him. After seven days without eating a single soul, Eater was _ still _ evenly matched with her. Regretfully, she knew that if he had been at full strength, it would've been _ him _ testing _ her _ that night.

"He's still weak, sir. I don't think we'll be having any problems from him." the woman reassured her master.

The man closed his eyes, disappearing into the shadows. "On the contrary, that is a problem. I want him at _ full _strength."

Anticipating his subordinates newly plastered confusion, The Grim took a step forward to become bathed in the eerie glow of his tall, standing mirror. Once hidden features became a little more visible, though still his face was still very hard to see. Tsubaki had become accustomed to the lack of visibility however, and could make out his calm, smooth features even in the shadows. It was a sight she hadn't seen in quite some time, given they hadn't seen face-to-face in ages. Only in reports, and even then he was usually cloaked in darkness as he was now. To be honest, it wasn't a half bad sight.

"You four will be arriving in Death within the day. This place is swarming with Reapers, and I would prefer that the man I assigned to protect Maka is prepared as such. Am I clear?"

Realizing the implications of the shadow man's words, Tsubaki bowed her head slightly. "Yes, Lord Grim. But, how do you suppose I find him a meal?"

The Grim waived her off. "It shouldn't be too hard. You won't be the only ones riding over here, I'm sure someone will have souls to spare."

"Yes sir, I'll get right on that. In fact, it's almost time for our transportation to arrive." Tsubaki replied, looking over her shoulder.

"Very well, you're dismissed for now." he nodded, watching the woman turn around. "Oh! Before you go, Tsubaki..."

The Night Stalker spun back to face her master, who surprised her by sticking his face right up to the illuminated mirror. For the first time, she could see him very clearly through the small mirror she used to talk to him with. His bright golden eyes grew twice as deep in the scorching desert sun, while his light skin stood out in stark contrast to the black all around him. Tsubaki's indigo eyes fell to the well kept crop of black hair atop his head, marred only by the streaks of white flared across his left side. She froze at the sight, mesmerized by his rarely seen features.

"...If you can't find any souls," The Grim said calmly, no emotion to his face. "Then feed Enrique to him. The man _ is _a Grigori, after all."

With those final words of instruction, the golden eyed man disappeared from sight as his image rippled away into nothingness. Tsubaki was left standing there, obviously distressed by the orders given to her. She covered her mouth with one hand, looking up to the sky as she tried to swallow the bile that had worked its way up her throat at the thought of feeding their cabby to Eater. It took her a moment to recover, but the woman quickly regained composure before embarking up the steep sand dune where her friends waited for her on the other side.

Her mind wandered as she climbed up the mound, coming across thoughts and ideas that she should not have been thinking about. First and foremost, the image of Enrique lying on the ground, dead by her own hand kept popping up. It sent her shaking her head in an attempt to wretch the idea from her mind, though it soon became replaced by a similar one. Only this time, it was Maka laying on the ground, dead by Eater's fault, as the latter knelt over the woman's mangled body in tears. Her soul dangled between his fingers, ready to be swallowed whole...

Tsubaki buried her face in her hands, shaking her head as the thoughts continued to pain her.

If worse came to worse, what exactly would she do?

* * *

Laying back on the wooden platform, arms behind his head as the burning sun lapped at the skin on his face, Soul smiled in amusement as the ruckus taking place next to him provided some mild entertainment. From the corner of his vision, he peeked at Maka's over exuberant face as Enrique grinned back at her with giant white teeth. The man's red hair sprawled messily about as he jumped about in place, excited at the information the two had just shared about each other. Maka smiled back just as wide, though her pearly whites were nowhere near as large.

"I can't believe it! You're a Grigori too? No one ever told me!" she beamed, practically jumping along with him.

The monkey-like man laughed ecstatically. "_ You? _ No one told me I was transporting someone like _ me! _ Soul, you bastard!"

"Hey, don't look me at Enrique," Soul shrugged, hoping to deflect the blame. "Tsubaki's the one who handled the arrangements, not me."

"Whatever! It doesn't even matter anymore! I've found my kindred spirit~!" Enrique quipped, earning the continued laughter of the woman in question.

The white Reaper chuckled before throwing his head lazily in the opposite direction, his nose immediately brushing up against something soft and furry. His eyes thrust open in surprise, though quickly they slit in annoyance at the sight of a tail waving back and forth in front of him. Soul groaned as the creature turned around to rub up against him, its purrs rumbling against his skin as it tried to repeat the process once more. Before it had the opportunity to however, the man scowled as he pushed the cat away, cursing to himself as it ran off to find comfort against Maka's leg.

Both she and Enrique immediately stopped their celebrating and let their eyes fall to the animal. "Soul! You didn't have to be so mean to Blair!"

"You've _ got _ to be shitting me, Maka." the Reaper growled, shifting his head to face her. "You actually gave the thing a name?"

The woman huffed, pursing her lips as she bent over to pick the creature up. "Why not? She's ours isn't she?"

Soul raised a brow, obviously amused. "_ Ours? _Since when exactly did I become the fleabag's father?"

"Since you started falling asleep with her on your lap." Maka replied matter-of-factly.

She giggled when her friend's eyes widened before giving a loud grunt, turning his head away again to hide his obvious loss for words. Blair the cat purred in Maka's arms, seemingly just as amused at Soul's fluster as her owner was. Enrique, enthralled by the entire conversation, threw his arms behind his head in euphoria. Grinning from ear to ear, the red headed man reached over and scratched the feline's ear, much to her delight. Maka in turn laughed at the rumbling in her arms from the cat's purrs, the two of them again returning to their little bonding moment.

Soul grumbled to himself, now annoyed by the display. Eyes closed, he picked himself off the platform and dusted small specks of sand from his back. The two Grigories across from him continued their conversation, though he paid them no mind as he turned to look back at the place where he had last seen Tsubaki. Wondering where she could have possibly gone to for the past ten minutes, the Reaper squinted his eyes against the bitter sunlight in order to try and find the raven haired woman. Though nothing at first caught his eye, after a moment or two of looking, the faint image of someone climbing over the top of the sand dune became noticeable in the wavering desert air. Soul cocked his heady slightly; just where exactly had she been?

"Nice of you to join us!" the Reaper barked at her, arms folded across his chest.

Tsubaki laughed as she made her way down the sand dune. "I didn't realize I had a curfew?"

Raising a brow, Soul watched his associate as she quickly descended down the small mountain. Something didn't add up about her sudden disappearance, mainly being that she had seemed to be rather on edge before they parted ways earlier. It nagged at him to say the least, but the thought quickly took as back seat as Tsubaki cleared the distance between them surprisingly fast. In a matter of seconds she was already climbing up the platform, dusting the sand off her just as he had moments before. The female Reaper gave him a nod and a smile, before making her way towards Maka and Enrique to join in on their conversation. Soul decided to bite his tongue for now, though suspicion still gnawed at him.

"Tsubaki! Why didn't you tell me Enrique was a Grigori?" Maka prodded with a smile.

The Reaper's eyes widened, surprised by the sudden revelation. "Who on earth told you that?"

Enrique motioned to himself with his thumbs. "This guy right here, that's who! And why didn't you tell me _ she _was one too?"

"Ah, well..." Tsubaki bit her lip, wearily looking between the both of them. "...I suppose it just slipped my mind. There were other things to worry about at the time."

Mouthing an elongated _ oh _ in understanding, the red headed man snapped back to his usually wide-smile self. Tsubaki gave an unnoticeable sigh in relief, followed by a look of surprise as Enrique practically jumped in front of her to garner her attention again. Suddenly finding it necessary to ask a multitude of questions, the cabby inquired her about anything and everything, most of it having almost nothing to do with anything remotely related to her job as a Reaper. Tsubaki could only smile awkwardly and try to answer everything in order, her own kindness damning her.

Maka, after having her fair share of amusement at Tsubaki's expense, turned Blair around in her arms and looked at the cat earnestly. The creature stared back with about as much enthusiasm, as if understanding her owner's silent confession of hanging around such strange people. She meowed as Maka giggled, the two of them deciding to leave the man and woman alone to their one sided forum. Giving a quick look Soul's way, who happened to motioning for her to come over there anyway, pet and master sneaked away from the loud conversation taking place right in front of them.

"Get your things ready first." Soul told her as she approached, not taking his eyes off Tsubaki and Enrique.

"You know," Maka started, making a b-line for a small trunk at the edge of the platform. "You never told me what we're doing here."

The Reaper looked flatly at the woman as she returned with luggage in tow. "You're a smart girl, Maka. I thought you'd figure it out for yourself."

_ Either that, or he doesn't even know himself, _ the woman thought to herself as she took up space next to him. Quickly Maka regretted the internal comment however, finding it in bad taste what with Soul's current predicament. She still couldn't believe that he remembered almost nothing of his past, something which he had further elaborated on during the last stretch of their journey; Apparently, it wasn't just his origins that eluded him, but general information about Reapers as well. Despite him being one, he knew nothing of how one becomes bound to The Grim, or even how Lyle Noah was transformed into that hulking beast she so vividly remembered. Not surprisingly, when asked the same questions, Tsubaki could tell her nothing. She may be their friend, but ultimately no help to them, either...

"...Why is it I can always tell when you space out?" a sudden breath tickled her ear.

Maka's back went straight at the feeling of Soul's hands gripping her waist snugly, the woman's loud squeak of surprise causing the man to chuckle against her skin. She squirmed for a second as her eyes darted immediately to Tsubaki and Enrique, praying that neither of them were paying attention as the man behind her began snaking his arm around her instead. Thankfully, the pair were too caught up in their conversation to even pay them a passing glance, though unfortunately, Soul seemed to notice this too. All the more reason why he pulled the red faced blonde towards him almost eagerly. Blair seemed to not like where this was going, and promptly hopped away to go mingle with the others while the pair wrestled with each other.

"Soul!" she squeaked again, loosely grabbing his arm in a pitiful attempt to try and pry it from her. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"What's it look like I'm doing, Maka?" the Reaper sneered against her ear, causing her to flush an even deeper shade.

The woman remained stiff, despite her knees wanting desperately to buckle. "I don't even-! Dammit!"

Soul fought back the urge to laugh. "You know, you really _ are _cute when you're angry."

Despite feeling the need to elbow him in the stomach, Maka had no choice but to melt into the embrace as his arm suddenly tightened itself around her. For a brief moment she stood there with him in his grasp, but quickly the feeling of his skin against hers disappeared. Wondering what he was doing, she turned her head to look for him, only to find his upturned brow and smirk mere inches from her face. Flustered beyond words, Maka sunk in defeat as her captor reached behind him with his free hand. Drawing the hood of his cloak, the better half of Soul's face became hidden behind dark cloth and shadow, leaving only his sharp toothed grin for Maka to look at.

"You're going to want to turn the other way," he instructed simply.

Lost in his hold, Soul's words barely registered in Maka's head. "What are you talking about-?"

A sudden rumble kept Maka's sentence short. The platform underneath her feet began to shake, with the sand down below starting to sift and churn by the force of something deep beneath the earth. Though softly at first, the wooden structure started to sway more and more with each passing second. Soon violent enough to throw someone off, Maka held on for dear life as Soul planted himself firmly in place, not at all bothered by the virtual earthquake happening before him. He simply turned around a little, Maka in tow, facing slightly away from the platform's edge.

"Keep your face hidden," the Reaper muttered, throwing the tail of his cloak over her head. "I don't want sand getting in your eyes."

Maka nodded, even though no one could see it with her head buried under a layer of cloth. Still holding onto Soul with one arm, she waited in total darkness as the floor continued to shake. She bit her tongue, nervous as to what was happening, and even more so due to the fact that she couldn't see a thing. Then, after another few seconds of waiting, the rumbling suddenly stopped. It ended when the booming sound of a horn filled her ears, almost so loud that her eardrums practically exploded. Soul turned around with her, their backs suddenly becoming pelted with sand that seemed to fall like rain. Another crash, a lot more sand, and finally after a few more seconds of waiting, everything became peaceful once more.

Except for that blasted horn sound that continued to blow, whatever it was. It sounded familiar, though Maka shook her head at the thought of there being something like _ that _in the middle of a desert. But, then again, stranger things had happened. And as Soul promptly removed his cloak from her head and released his grip on her, the two of them turned around in unison to find the sight that proved her theory wrong. Standing before them, sand still falling from its side after apparently emerging from the earth, was a train of solid black iron. Red roof above it and wheels that ran on no track, Maka's jaw dropped at the awesome spectacle before her as the train blasted its horn once more. Soul sneered, impressed by the fire that spouted from its smoke stack.

"Right on schedule." he drawled, pulling the hood away from his face. "Then again, it _ is _the Runaway Express."


	14. The Standoff

Had Tsubaki always had this thing just laying around, or was it something she'd picked up during their journey? For the life of her, Maka couldn't recall, though it hardly mattered anymore. She was already changing out into the attire that the Reaper had provided, eyeing herself wearily in the mirror as the final touches came together. Speechless, the woman turned this way and that, inspecting herself from every possible angle. Though nothing like the usual plain clothing she had become accustomed to wearing, Maka had to admit the outfit suited her quite well.

The material was a little heavy, but it fit her loosely like Soul's did for him. A simple two-piece, the top portion covered the essentials and came down to about her stomach. The bottom half stopped just short of her ankles, though the pant legs seemed a bit too puffy for her taste. Small details aside however, Maka couldn't help but give a weak smile as she threw the white cloak over her that was meant to top it all off. Any exposed skin, which included the entirety of her arms, immediately became shrouded in bleached cloth. When all was said in done, she fit into the guise of desert wanderer quite well.

A light knocking came suddenly at the door. "Maka? Are you alright? Do you need help?

"No, Tsubaki. Thank you!" Maka replied, giving herself a final meek smile in the mirror. "I'm coming out now."

She held her breath when the doorknob turned in her hand, preparing for joking or laughter at her expense as she emerged from the bathroom. The woman stood frozen in the doorway, not even blinking as Tsubaki gave her a quick look over her new appearance. At first expecting criticism, Maka became surprised when a bright smile snaked its way across her friend's face. She beamed as she motioned for Maka to turn around, which the latter obediently did. They both approved of the unusually ornate cloak, though Maka's clothing underneath still remained hidden.

"It's lovely, Maka!" Tsubaki chimed, taking the woman's hand. "I can only imagine what the rest looks like!"

Maka blushed slightly, not at all comfortable with the thought of showing that much skin. "You really think I needed to change, though?"

Tsubaki shook her head as she started off, leading the way back to their seats with Maka in tow. "Only out of necessity. Trust me, you'll need the cover."

The blonde nodded, tossing glances to her left and right as the two of them made their way down the aisle. She tightened her grip at the sight of the other passengers, remembering just how surprised she had been at the realization of there being others besides them using the train. Quite honestly, it didn't even seem all that strange at first. If a train could come out of the _ ground _for heaven's sake, then the idea of there being people riding inside wasn't all that far fetched in comparison. Though, at the time, Maka couldn't help but stand just a little bit closer to Soul when he told her that everyone there was a Reaper. That, and the fact he ordered her and Enrique to always stay with him or Tsubaki at all times, caused her to stay slightly on edge.

She was reminded of that again as one of the Reapers watched her walk by, his eyes focused intently on her cloaked body before Tsubaki noticed and tugged her along in a hurry. Warily looking over her shoulder, the man disappeared from her sight as they walked into the adjacent cart where Soul and Enrique were waiting for them. Maka found herself pulling closer to the raven haired woman, suddenly feeling very self conscious as a new sea of eyes fell upon her. Tsubaki obliged by quickening her pace, hoping to make it to their seats before anything else could happen.

"Tsubaki! Thank god you're here!" Enrique grimaced as the two of them approached, the seat next to him strangely empty.

"...Where on earth is Eater!?" Tsubaki gasped, eyes wide at the realization of the cabby being all by his lonesome.

The red haired man shrugged. "He left to do something, but...this guy tried talking to me after...I think?"

"...You think?" Maka asked slowly, making sure to take her seat quickly as Tsubaki followed.

Enrique nodded. "Yeah! He opened his mouth real wide, but didn't say anything!"

Maka looked to the Night Stalker, already knowing that the stranger had not wanted to talk. Tsubaki seemed to thinking the same thing, as she noticed when the woman bit her lower lip nervously. Suddenly, she found herself growing more on edge. If The Grim's personal assassin was worried about something then it couldn't be a good sign, even more so since they had no idea where Soul went.

"Where did that man go to? Do you know?" Maka asked rather quietly, as if uttering some huge secret.

"You mean, you didn't see him?" the cabby cocked his head, confused. "He left a minute ago to that cart you came from."

"...The guy with spiky blonde hair?" both women asked in unison, throwing each other weary looks when Enrique confirmed that was indeed the case.

_ The one watching me leave, _ Maka thought to herself frightfully. The situation was quickly becoming dangerous, even more so now that they knew that someone aboard was interested in their souls. The only problem was, she had no idea what to do about it. Tsubaki seemed lost in thought, apparently overwhelmed by the thought of having to protect _ two _Grigories by herself. It was a feat that sounded manageable for a strong woman like her, but under normal circumstances. Riding in a possessed train, surrounded by dozens of equally dangerous purveyors of death, and any sense of normality was instantly tossed aside. The female Reaper was unsure of herself, and it showed.

Lost in thought, both women were oblivious to their surroundings as Enrique found out the hard way. Neither noticing the cart door behind them open, the red headed man was the only one to swivel around and gape at the incoming passenger as he made his way towards them. Frantic beyond the need for words, Enrique waved his arms back and forth, trying to get the women's attention. Not surprisingly, neither of them paid him any mind until it was already too late. By the time the cabby had concocted the brilliant idea of slapping the two girls across the face to garner their attention, the other passenger was already standing next to them in the aisle, his spiky, blonde hair immediately telling the three of them that trouble had found them.

"Tsubaki," the man said gruffly, no finesse to his voice at all.

The woman's eyes narrowed, her back immediately becoming stiff. "Giriko."

"I see The Grim's still got you doing bitch work." Giriko replied casually, as if shooting the breeze.

"And I see that you're still a cold hearted, sadistic bastard," Tsubaki shot back coldly, surprising Maka immensely.

The man snorted, but not before leaning over into everyone's personal space. Maka watched warily as he looked over Enrique, then quickly shot back to her. She squirmed under his gaze, holding herself beneath her cloak to guard against the seeming x-ray vision he was using to see through her with. The man sneered as his face came closer to hers, showing off teeth that sent tingling sensation down her spine. They were just as sharp as Soul's, and the sight of them made her wish desperately for the white Reaper's return. What would he do at a time like this-?

"-Giriko!" Tsubaki hissed. "You get any closer and I'll slice your throat open!"

The Night Stalker reached around and clutched Giriko's chest before pushing him effortlessly into the seats across the aisle. Maka sunk back, breathing in _ clean _air instead of Giriko's foul breath. She scooted to the side as her escort jumped up to put herself between him and the two Grigories, the woman's arms crossed in strong defiance. Both Enrique and Maka sighed as they looked at each other, thinking the exact same thing as Giriko brought himself back to his feet to challenge the other Reaper for dominance; Thank god for Tsubaki.

"Fucking cunt!" the blonde Reaper spat, baring his teeth like a dog. "You dangle dinner in front of me, then push me away?"

"I'm only going to tell you this once Giriko. _ Leave!" _ Tsubaki ground out, fingers twitching in anticipation to strike.

Eyes slit, the man growled. "The red one I'll eat first! The Grim always told me not to play with my food, but I think I'll make an exception for the blonde!"

Maka's mouth dropped, Giriko's wild grin telling her all she needed to know about what _ playing with his food _meant. Immediately horrified, she found herself scooting away from the action and towards the window as Enrique did the same. Only, without a word, the red headed cabby took it upon himself to get between her and the others. He gripped the seats on either side of him, adding another layer of protection to the woman as she watched Tsubaki summon a sword from a bolt of black lightning. Maka looked on in horror as Giriko summoned his own weapon from silver light; A saw blade, its teeth fine and spinning.

Giriko cocked the weapon back, as if it were a rapier. "I'm going to enjoy this Tsubaki! You have no fucking idea how much!"

"Then come at me already, you pitiful excuse for a Reaper!" the Night Stalker spat dryly, her weapon itching to attack.

"**I'm gonna** **kill the killer!**" Giriko cackled madly, throwing his arm back to strike. "**You stupid, fucking whore-!**"

** _"-If you don't step away from them right now, Giriko, I'm going to rip out your soul and show it to you!"_ **

Everyone froze. They all turned their heads towards the door at the end of the aisle, but none quicker or more so than Maka. She knew from the moment he opened his mouth it was Soul, and the sight of his white hair and burning red eyes sent her falling against the window in relief. He stood in the doorway of the opposite cart, his black cloak parted to reveal a bag tucked safely under his arm. Two strangers stood behind him, a man and a woman, both with dark hair though one's was clearly longer than the other's. Giriko scanned the newcomers quickly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Eater?" The man grunted, his arm lowering slightly. "The hell have you been?" Last time I saw you, it was-?"

"-Twenty-four years ago." Soul cut him off, making his way down the center aisle. "I've been busy."

The two strangers in tow, Soul made his presence known to everyone in the cabin with the sound of each one of his heavy footsteps. For those Reapers who had remained in silent audience to the action, a few rose their brows at the sight of the white haired man, despite having not even batted an eye at Giriko's earlier display. Both Maka and Enrique held their breaths as Soul and his entourage approached the saw wielding madman. Tsubaki found it better for her to step back and let her associate handle the rest, the latter being all too willing to oblige.

He took the bag from under his arm and tossed it to Grikio. "Take it and go. I've already had my fill for the week, you can have the rest."

An amused snort filtered through the man's nose. "I want the Grigories, Eater! This shitty excuse for a meal won't satisfy me!"

"_ Either, _ you take it and go," Soul hissed, eyes burning like fire. "Or I slice your nuts off and feed you that instead."

"I'd love to see you try, Eater." Giriko ground out, his sharp teeth bore as Soul displayed his own as well.

The white Reaper broke into a menacing grin. "Even if I don't, I guarantee you the other three will."

Giriko hesitated for a moment, his face fixed into a scowl as he eyed the others carefully. Maka watched him straighten up a bit, before the inevitable fall of the blade to his side. She concluded that, even though he was a total boar, the Reaper must not have been stupid. Any of the passengers aboard the train could see that four against one was a situation best avoided. Still though, the blonde man couldn't help but give a few terse words under his breath before turning around to head back to his cabin. His eyes fell to the bag in his hands as he opened the door and mustered a bitter chuckle.

"These aren't even the good souls, Eater. You know the red ones have no taste."

And before Soul could say anything in response, the sadistic Reaper disappeared as the door closed behind him. Left standing there in the aisle, a crowd of eyes watching him, the white Reaper simply ignored the unwanted attention and instead focused on his friends as they had taken their seats. He gave a tired sigh, his head hung slightly as he looked everyone over. No one was hurt, thankfully, and Tsubaki had just barely escaped having to resort to violence. Soul shuddered to think what would've happened if he had been just a second too late.

"Everyone alright?" he finally asked aloud.

Tsubaki nodded lightly. "Fine, now that you're here."

"He didn't touch any of you, did he?" Soul pried, his eyes falling to Maka.

Enrique motioned with his head to the woman. "No, but he sure sounded like he _ wanted _ to."

The Reaper blinked, stony faced as he wasn't sure how to respond to that little bit information the cabby had just given him. Maka in turn sunk back in her seat, embarrassed by the attention she was receiving over some stupid comment the man had made, probably half heartedly. She hid her face by looking out the window, though mostly to conceal the smile that weaved across it at the sound of Soul muttering something about cutting away Giriko's manhood if he ever saw him again. The comment wasn't meant to be cute but, strangely, it worked out that way.

"...Anyway, he won't be coming back." Soul added, looking to the couple standing next to him. "Thanks to you guys."

The brown haired woman smiled faintly. "We didn't do a thing, Eater. It's just nice to see you again."

"Especially since you're not trying to kill me like last time." the man in a pony-tail quipped.

Soul shrugged. "You're alive, aren't you? Just don't catch me when I'm drunk."

The black haired man furrowed his brows, his expression barely noticeable under the dark glasses that he wore. Soul meanwhile gave both him and the brown eyed woman a lazy grin, his shoulders slinking as he became less tense. Both Maka and Tsubaki eyed the two strangers curiously, wondering who they were and how exactly Soul knew them. They even waited for an answer, although one never came. And after waiting for a few minutes as the three of them made small talk, Maka coughed audibly to steal back the Reaper's attention once again.

"So, who are your friends?" Tsubaki asked for her, both noticeably eager for an answer.

The brown haired woman blinked. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot my manners. My name is Jacqueline Dupre."

Her associate bowed slightly. "And my name is Harvar Eclair. We're soul collectors, and old acquaintances of Eater."

"Oh, hello!" Maka smiled politely, standing up along with Tsubaki to shake their hands. "My name is Maka Albarn, nice to meet you!"

Soul rolled his eyes as he took a step back, allowing the larger group to stand, shake hands, and exchange their pleasantries. Though causing even more of a scene than before, none of the other passengers paid the lighthearted gathering any mind. The excitement had left with Giriko and apparently so had the opportunity to watch someone die right in front of them, meaning little attention to be paid on the part of the other Reapers. The meet and greet didn't last long anyway, at least not for Enrique and Harvar. Both men stood off to the side as the three women absently took their seats, continuing to exchange small talk and smile over superfluous things that didn't make a lick of sense to Soul.

All the more reason why he found himself taking up the window seat in the row adjacent to the girls, while the other men fell into place next to him. They made some idle chit-chat for the sake of being polite, but remained relatively silent, much to the white Reaper's delight. His attention was instead focused on the view outside his window, a stunning sight just barely within his vision that he wished Maka could see at that moment. If she were sitting with him, he would have explained what she was seeing; The reason why his hair and eyes were visible even in blistering daylight. _The Black Jewel of the Deser_t. The city of Death, wholly encased by the dark soul of the Original Grim himself.

He would've also told her that he was sorry. Though she would've told him there was nothing to be sorry about, Soul already mounted his counter claim. He put her and Enrique in a dicey situation earlier, though if he hadn't have left, he'd still be weak and hungry. Soul would've also apologized for eating that man's soul a few days back, despite her having told him to do it anyway. And though Maka would be pissed if he said it out loud, Soul couldn't help himself from wanting to apologize most of all for the worst thing he had done to her. Something that, no matter how hard he wished, he just couldn't take it back.

"...I'm sorry I dragged you into this," Soul muttered under his breath, staring at the giant black sphere before him.

He knew that things were never going to be the same.

No matter how much he apologized to her.

No matter how hard he wished.


	15. The Meeting

Reapers are naturally lonely creatures.

Some are fighters. Some aren't. Some are important. Others merely exist.

A few eat the souls of those that they come across, and according to Jacqueline they're the most dangerous to be around. In her travels as a soul collector, she's seen a few of them. They're a rare breed, the term  _ breed  _ used in the same sense a dog. When those Reapers are hungry, the brown haired woman recalled, their instinct is to pounce on the first soul they come across. In a state of mind that can only be described as animalistic, they'll kill any human, Reaper, or Grigori in their sights and take the still-fresh essence from their bodies and eat it right then and there. No one knows why they do it, nor does anyone know what happens if they don't feed. In fact, the only thing that ties these Reapers together at all is their similarly sharpened rows of teeth.

Teeth like Giriko's. Teeth like those found in Lyle's stomach. But to her, the only kind that mattered were the ones belonging to  _ him.  _ The kind she had seen poke through multiple times in their conversations together and, just recently, the kind she had felt tickle her ear in a way that left the young woman flustered beyond words. To the residents of Loew, they were intimidating and a bothersome distraction. To Maka, however, his incisors were probably the most comforting thing about him. Soul's razor fangs made her feel safe, secure. His steely red eyes scared off both suitor and Reaper alike, and the snow white of the man's hair always sent a shiver down her spine at just how mysterious he looked. Everything about him just felt...right.

_ "I don't know if I'll be able to do this after today…So, I'd mine as well do it now." _

Maybe that was why she didn't find it strange that they’d wound up like this. Alone, together, in a pitch black room. Separated from the others as they walked along the halls of the largest building in Death, where The Grim apparently waited for them behind one of the infinite amount of doors. They'd been escorted through the winding skyscraper by Lord Grim's assistants, their names seeming to escape Maka as she gave Soul all of her attention at the moment. Him also being the one who led her astray, directing her away from their friends in order to speak alone.

Not that he had done much speaking. Before the door had even closed behind her and she could question just what the hell they were doing in a room with no lights, Maka found herself on the receiving end of Soul's unexpected embrace. His arms coiled around her waist as the latter yelped in surprise. He hushed her so as to not draw any attention and from there it wasn't long before he had her against the wall. Their foreheads pressed against each other like they had been that night at the inn, Maka couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck as they hid together in silence.

"What are you talking about Soul?" she asked with a frown, barely noticeable in the dark.

The Reaper sighed, his head shaking against hers. "He's going to pull something, Maka. I can feel it."

Maka squirmed. "First of all, how do you know? Secondly, you still haven’t explained why we're here right now."

For the first time since they'd arrived in Death, Soul's lips curled into his signature grin. Only this time, Maka shivered against him at the sight of his bright white teeth and hair, them being the only things visible in the darkness of the room. That, and his ruby red eyes as they stared amusingly into her own. He let out a chuckle at the feeling of her shake against him, causing the young woman's lips to purse in annoyance. Despite this, she didn't try at all to break away or even tell him off like usual. Mostly because of the way his grin disappeared into a genuinely warm smile, though the way he started to nuzzle against her nose certainly helped his case as well. If anything, she sunk into him more, her face flushed a bright hue of scarlet.

"Knowing The Grim..." he mumbled in a deceivingly soft tone, "...He’s either going to reassign me, or retire me. Permanently.”

Maka's eyes widened. He couldn't have been serious. The look in his eyes told her otherwise however, that almost defeated glaze she hadn't seen from him since they laid in bed together all those nights ago. Her heart sank at the sight, but she didn't have the opportunity to comfort him. Not when he seemed to rebound almost immediately, his lips again melting into that warm smile that made the young woman suck in air to calm herself. Soul nudged her head gingerly, to which she responded by letting it rest against the wall as he leaned into her. His face was brought down closer by her arms as they coiled around him tighter, followed by him doing the same thing around her waist. By far, it was the closest they'd been in a long time. Too long.

His breath trickled along her lips, causing Maka's heart to flutter. "And if there’s a chance I might die tonight, well...I'd mine as well get a goodbye kiss, right?"

It was at that moment when the young woman lost every train of thought going through her had at the moment and instead stared with huge green eyes as Soul leaned his face into hers. With every fiber of her being, she tried desperately to say something or at the very least turn away. Something about the thought of kissing her bodyguard, of kissing  _ Soul,  _ seemed inappropriate beyond reason. He was two hundred years old. He had pined for her soul on multiple occasions. He was crude, rude, blunt, sarcastic, snarky, egotistical, an ass when he wanted to be, and...

...Soft, as she found out when their lips finally met in the most uneventful way possible. The world didn't end. Her soul was still where it should be, at least it seemed that way, anyway. The only thing out of the ordinary was the tingling sensation she experienced as his mouth worked its way along her own, which even she couldn't deny, felt amazing. Maka's grip on him quickly tightened as she closed her eyes in euphoria. How on earth she'd gone this long without kissing him, she'd never know. All the young woman could do was give the smallest moan of encouragement as his tongue begged for entry past her lips, the latter making the same noise as she allowed him passage inside of her.

Soul's arms went further south, his hands placed on her lower back and right along her spine. Maka ran her fingers through his hair, the latter responding by picking up the pace of each lap along her mouth. Again she moaned, and again Soul's hands trailed farther along her body. The woman felt herself become pressed against the wall as he put all of his weight against her, their bodies so tightly packed together that space no longer existed between them. Not that either cared, both too busy keeping the other's lips occupied as they gave themselves to each other in the darkness. The sounds of their heavy breaths and moans filling the room, it was a wonder nobody had heard them. But, Maka dared to think, it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference if someone had noticed them in there anyway.

Soul was the first to pull his head away, taking in a gulp full of air. "...Dammit, Maka."

"What?" she replied breathlessly, disappointed he had stopped.

The Reaper grinned. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Maka pinked. "Well then, why did you stop?"

She couldn't believe what she was saying. Then again, it wasn't like it didn't benefit her. Maka smiled as Soul leaned in again, expecting the feeling of his lips against hers. Instead however, she jumped in surprise at the feeling of Soul's teeth as they clamped down on the side of her neck. She squeaked, much to her horror, and grew even redder as the sharp toothed man continued to nibble at her skin like an animal. The feeling took some getting used to, and though she wanted to scold him for biting her in the first place, Maka soon lost herself in Soul's grasp as he continued to take mouthfuls of her at a time. All the while grinning against the woman's skin as she ran her fingers absently through his hair.

It went on for a few blissful moments, before Maka took it upon herself to wrench him away and seal his mouth off with a long, drawn out embrace. Soul tried to pick up the pace, but she would have none of it. The meeting of their mouths was slow, methodical. And after a minute or two of fighting with her, the Reaper slowly relented at the feeling of just how amazingly  _ thorough  _ they could be at such a pace. Their heartbeats eased and passion left the moment, but what was left was the tender feel of each other's soft touch as they hung on just for the sake of being together.

Maka gave him one last lingering kiss before breaking away for a moment. "...Soul, you're not going anywhere."

The white haired Reaper raised a brow and smirked at her audacity. "Yeah? What makes you say that?"

" _ I'll _ fight him if I have to," she grumbled, resting her head against him. "He won’t take you away."

"...And what would you do that for?" Soul grinned in amusement, letting his chin fall atop her head.

Maka buried her face into the pit of his neck. "Because, I need you as much as you need me."

Though obviously enjoying himself at first, Soul's grin quickly disappeared. It was soon replaced by a lidded smile as he continued to stand in place with Maka in his arms, the realization of what she was saying slowly sinking in. The darkness surrounding them kept him from catching the look on her face, but he had a feeling that she was smiling just the same. All the more reason why he felt the need to push Maka's head back and kiss her yet again, only this time softly like she had wanted him to before. Just as he suspected, the woman's lips curled against his skin as he continued to show his affection.

"You really want me to stay, huh?" he muttered, straining to see Maka's green eyes.

She nodded before he could even finish his sentence. "I’m serious, Soul. Don't you dare leave me..."

"Promise I won't," he replied firmly, before leaning in for a final kiss. "I'll slit the bastard’s throat if I have to."

Maka hated the idea of him putting himself in harm's way, especially for her, but for once she agreed with Soul. If The Grim was really so much of a threat that his life was in danger just being in the building, then she wanted Soul to fight. She wanted him to be okay. And most of all, she wanted him to stay. With her. In that dark, secluded room, cut off from the rest of the world so that only the two of them could mean something to each other. Like the way she felt as his mouth and hers crashed together one last time, the sensation of which was completely indescribable. The rest of reality meant nothing to her as long she could continue to feel this way indefinitely. Nothing else mattered. Not Tsubaki. Not The Grim. Not her soul. Just him-

_ "-Sissy, it's so dark! Howcome he never turns the lights on? No wonder he's so pale!" _

Soul and Maka froze in place, their eyes as wide open as their mouths. They stared at each other for the briefest of moments before breaking away permanently, both scrambling in the darkness to find an exit to the pitch black room. Sounds of two women exchanging conversation became the most terrifying Soul had ever heard in his life, the thought of having to deal with the others after being caught red handed with Maka was almost too much to comprehend. He had to think of something, and fast. So, much to Maka's confusion, he reached behind her and pulled down the hood of her cloak.

"What are you doing!" she whispered, now completely blinded by cloth.

"Just, shut up and let me do the talking." he answered back, not sure at all if his plan would work.

Before the blonde could say something again, the lights abruptly turned on. Both she and Soul reeled for a moment, their momentarily blinded due to having stayed in such darkness for so long. Their ears however worked just fine, and immediately the sounds of two women gasping in surprise could be heard as they blinked to focus again. Maka still couldn't see much, but from what little she could make out it seemed as though they were two blondes. One taller than the other, both wore the same red and white dress suit. Other than that, it still pained her to try and continue to make out anything more than that.

Soul however seemed to rebound quickly. "Liz. Patty. It's been a while."

"Eater!" the smallest one beamed, throwing her hands in the air. "Eater's back, sis!"

"Yes, Patti. All of Death City has been talking about it since he got here.  _ We  _ were literally just talking about it."

Since he arrived? Maka raised a brow underneath her hood, intrigued by the notion of Soul being a conversation piece. They'd only been in the city for a mere hour or so, and people were already starting to talk about him? Something like that only happens for a reason and Maka was determined to find out what that reason was, but she decided to put her plans on hold for the moment as the Reaper continued his mild conversation with the two women whom he apparently knew. And, just as he had told her, the woman remained silent throughout.

"So you mind telling me just what the hell you're doing in the Death Room with your friend?" Liz deadpanned, folding her arms.

Maka cringed, thinking they had just been found out. Soul merely waived her off. "She's one of the soul collectors, Liz."

"But that doesn't explain why you were in here alone~!" Patti chimed enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear.

"-Or why you two decided to have your little meeting in here with no lights on," the taller woman added.

Soul sneered. "She was giving me my dinner, ladies. You honestly want to watch me feed outside?"

Poking an eye out from under her cover, Maka noticed a slight twinge from the woman known as Liz. The smaller one, whom she guessed was her sister, opened her mouth wide in awe as if being told some huge secret. Apparently even Reapers had scruples amongst their own, with eating souls probably being taboo even for them. All the more reason why it came as no surprise when the two women immediately stopped their prying and left the subject alone altogether. Soul motioned for the door, silently asking if the two could leave. After a moment of thinking, Liz relented.

"You two can go." she said flatly, eyeing the Reaper and woman as they turned towards the door. "But Lord Grim is expecting you. Now."

"Tell me something I don't know, Liz." Soul replied just as flatly, tossing a waive over his shoulder as he and Maka filed out.

When the door closed behind them, Maka immediately removed her hood and gave the biggest sigh of relief. Soul did the same, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at the woman from behind. He couldn't believe that plan of his actually worked, being that it wasn't even a plan so much as a last second excuse. Even more so, he still couldn't believe that they even needed to make an excuse in the first place; Planning ahead was not his forte, so it was still pretty unbelievable that his impulse to get a kiss from Maka Albarn worked out as well as it did. This was made even more apparent when his eyes widened as she turned around to face him and took his hand in her own.

"What happens when they find out it  _ was  _ me later on?" she asked concernedly, thinking about their meeting with The Grim.

Soul blinked for a second, but then quickly shook his head. "You just have to take off your cloak. That's the only way they'll recognize you."

Maka grimaced at the thought, not at all comfortable with the thought of taking off the cloak given to her by Tsubaki. Especially with how much skin she was showing underneath, with the entirety of her arms bare along with the bottom half of her stomach. Soul chuckled when he caught sight of the young woman's frown, making her look like a rabbit as she bit her upper lip in dismay. He didn't say anything however, thinking there wasn't enough time to strike up anymore conversation. Thinking that The Grim's personal assistants would return and give them hell again, he tugged at Maka's arm and started walking down the hallway with her close by his side. Their arms hidden behind cloth, only their fingers poked through as they held onto the other's.

All the while, Soul again thought that everything had worked out in the end.

He knew that Maka's current clothing was less modest than usual. And now, he actually got to see it.

* * *

Somehow, someway, by the time they arrived at the thirty-third floor, the others hadn't yet reached Lord Grim's chambers. The surprise was obvious across their faces as they cleared the long, winding stairs of the skyscraper, though both Soul and Maka were far too out of breath to say anything on the matter. As quietly as their moment together not too long ago, both made their way to the lone door in the middle of the hallway. Instead of a wall, there was only a single, giant pane of glass that overlooked the entirety of Death on their left side. Having nowhere to sit and wait for the others to arrive, the pair leaned against the window as they waited patiently in front of the ornately covered door.

Soul peeked from the corner of his eye and looked Maka over as she turned to stare at the awe skyline of Death City, the look on her face priceless though it only caught part of his attention. She was kind of pale, he decided with a smirk. The uncovered spots where he had never seen her before blended seamlessly with the rest of her skin, only, now under the glow of the fluorescent lights did he realize just how white Maka actually was. Not that he cared or had anything to talk about, considering his own face had inspired a rhyme about how evil looking he was. His arm snaked around the woman's waist and crept up behind her. She jumped at first, but quickly eased at the feeling of his head resting on her shoulder.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Soul smiled, staring out at the darkened city with her.

Maka nodded absently, enthralled by the sight. "Why is it like this? You said it was cursed, right?"

The Reaper shook his head. "No, that’s just a story. Really, it's the Original Grim."

The woman raised a brow in confusion, though Soul could hardly blame her. Anticipating her inevitable string questions, Soul already had the answers he had prepared on the train ready. For the following few minutes, he explained to her as much as he could; Death was a city in the middle of a desert wasteland, where life was harsh and hard to come by. Buildings rose high into the sky, made of metal and glass that reflected the blinding lights of the bustling streets below. Neon signs, something Soul knew was one of the many things Maka had never experienced before, were fixed up and down every street and building. Reapers of all sorts shuffled along, going about their usual affairs, almost like regular people.

All because of the Original Grim. Predecessor to the current one, he was the creator of the first Reapers. Or, maybe he was one himself? No one really knew for sure, but all Reapers agreed that he was powerful. So much so, in fact, that after his passing, the man's soul became the protective shell that surrounded the city. With darkness in his heart, it took the form of an ethereal, swirling black mass, earning it the title of  _ Black Jewel of the Desert _ . In reality, there really  _ was  _ a curse though; The eternal night that the city is forever held in, but to even call that a curse was subjective in itself. To the Reapers who lived and sinned along the darkened streets and alleyways, it was more like heaven on earth.

"...So this is where you used to live?" Maka mused, letting her mind wonder about his past life.

Soul closed his eyes. "Yeah. But, that was a long time ago. I haven’t been back since I was assigned to you."

"Right, about that..." she prodded, snatching Soul’s attention once more. "...Liz said the whole city was talking about you-?"

"-I have no idea what you're talking about, Maka." Stifling a grin, the Reaper broke away from her and put his arms behind his head. 

The woman rolled her eyes and sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to be getting an answer anytime soon. So instead of pursuing it further, Maka took to ignoring him altogether. She focused all of her attention on taking in the entirety of Death, fighting back a giggle after hearing an annoyed growl from the man behind her. Soul tried wrapping his arms around her again, but found out quickly that both the invitation and element of surprise had long since passed. Again he voiced his distaste, and again it fell on deaf ears.

"...Not cool, Maka." Soul grumbled, turning around to face the door.

This time, she couldn't fight back laughter. "I never took you for the pouting type, Soul!"

"Who says I'm pouting!?" the man snarled, folding his arms in annoyance. He was a grown child.

"You know," Maka smiled smugly, tossing a glance over her shoulder. " _ You're  _ pretty cute when you're angry."

Noticing the way Soul suddenly stiffened at her words, Maka broke into a grin as he turned his head to reveal the faintest hint of red on his face. Again she laughed, and again Soul grumbled to himself bitterly. Just how the hell was this woman getting to him like this? Maybe being around her and Tsubaki for so long was making him soft, an idea that was only reaffirmed as Maka took pity on him and turned to snake her arms through his own. He stared at the ceiling, not at all amused by the satisfaction Maka carried with her as she buried her face into his back.

Although, that couldn’t stop him from grabbing hold of her arms as they wrapped around his stomach. "The hell's gotten into you?"

"Nothing at all! What, I can't have a little fun at your expense for once?" she cooed against his soft cloak.

"Oh, you can….” Soul grinned lazily “...Just don't expect me to just lay back and accept it."

Maka's grip eased a bit. "...And what exactly is that supposed to mean-?"

Finding the perfect opportunity as always, the Reaper pounced. Turning in her arms, Soul surprised the young woman by burying his face in the pit of her neck. She gasped, the feeling of his hands trailing down her back causing her skin to turn bright red, much to his delight. Almost immediately Maka began cursing at him underneath her breath, but Soul paid her no mind as he nuzzled her while she squirmed. If she had a book at the moment, it would have been lodged in his skull. But having no other choice, Maka just stood there as the man's grin tickled at her skin.

"You're an ass." she mumbled, staring flatly at the door behind him.

"You'll get over it." Soul snickered, bringing his forehead up to rest against hers.

Just as they had done earlier, the two remained still as they held each other in their arms. Maka sighed, finally easing under the lidded stare of the Reaper as he let the full weight of himself fall against her. She smiled, damning him silently as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Already he seemed to be taking full advantage of their new found closeness, practically falling asleep against her without a second thought. Now that she thought about it, Maka realized that the man probably had a lot going through his head at the moment.

The Grim. His punishment. Her, and their newfound intimacy. Not to mention the fact that he still had no idea who he even was. All of this combined into the perfect blend of terrifying thoughts, the likes of which must have taxed him considerably. Maybe that was why he had eaten a week's worth of souls on the train ride over? Not to stave off his previous hunger or to stockpile for later, but maybe as a small amount of comfort for what lay ahead of him? The idea of him freaking out over so many things at once, well...there was a reason why she didn't hesitate to become the man's temporary bed. If anything, she closed her eyes and gave herself a minute to breathe as well. The two of them. Alone again.

_ "-I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" _

Soul's eyes shot open. Maka's did as well, but by the time she could see again the Reaper had already spun around. She looked down to notice a fist curl at his side, before he buried it in the pit of his pocket. He mumbled something under his breath, but said nothing aloud to the stranger who stood before them. A stranger who, Maka quickly realized, stood just as tall as Soul and dressed in similarly colored attire. Only his was more refined, elegant. The golden-eyed man sported a flowing black cloak that was much longer than Soul’s, almost too long. The man's hair matched the rest of him; black, save for three oddly placed white stripes.

"I’m exhausted," Soul replied tersely, eyes averted elsewhere. "The girl makes a good headrest."

The other man's face was flat, save for an upturned brow. "Is that so? Well, I’ve heard of your troubles getting here."

"All thanks to you, of course,” the Reaper added snarkily, sharp teeth poking through. “I should thank you for the free vacation." 

"No need to thank me, Eater. You know as well as I do that it was your inability to do your job right that landed you here in the first place."

As if a switch had been flicked, the white haired Reaper began seething with hostility. Like a threatened dog, he stood there silently and threw the full brunt of his gaze at the stranger.  _ Son of a bitch _ , he muttered under his breath. There was more, but Maka couldn't make out the rest. Honestly, she didn't want to. Immediately the woman felt very tiny compared to both men as they started to size one another up, a silent contest of dominance. For a few seconds, the air was too thick to even breathe. She was scared something might happen. Terrified even.

Before anything could though, the stranger broke off and turned towards her. His expression immediately eased. "You’re Maka Albarn, correct?"

She stiffened. Maka looked to Soul, wanting to hide behind his back. He didn't notice. She was on her own. "Yes...that’s me."

"...Well then this certainly is a pleasure," the stranger said with the warmest of smiles. The sight threw her completely off.

Immediately shedding any anger he had at Soul, the man walked towards Maka as the white Reaper watched warily. She wanted desperately to reach for his hand, grab his arm, something. Soul narrowed his eyes as the other man reached for the young woman's hand, the latter giving it to him half out of fear. He leaned in and placed a single kiss on her hand. He then looked up and smiled at her, eerily similar to how Soul had done the night they first met in Sid’s store. Maka shuddered.

"Excuse me for not introducing myself first. My name is Kidd, although, you may already know me as The Grim Reaper."

The woman's jaw dropped.  _ This  _ was The Grim? Lord of all Reapers and a glorified backstabber, at least according to Soul? It almost didn't seem possible. If it weren't for the terrifying air she had felt from him moments before, she wouldn’t have guessed the man was anything less than human. Then again...that's what she had first thought about Soul, too. And at least from this man, Kidd, was acting, it was now clear to her that Reapers had a thing for acting suave. 

"I've been eager to see you." The Grim released his hold on her before turning towards his subordinate. " _ Both _ of you."

Soul waived his master off. He quickly swooped in and returned to Maka's side. "I get it, already. Tsubaki told me you were pissed."

Kidd's eyes narrowed. "You went a week without reporting in. I want to know what was so important that you couldn’t notify me for so long.”

Tossing a weary look towards her bodyguard, Maka knew exactly what. In the back of her head, she wondered if Soul resented her for getting him into trouble. To her surprise and relief however, the only thing she found was that confident grin spread wide on his face. Immediately, her fears were put to rest. Hands still in his pockets, the Reaper stared smugly at The Grim in a way that visibly annoyed him.

"I was just doing my job, sir." he replied simply, leaving it at that.

The Grim shook his head. "You can tell me all about it during our meeting."

Soul raised a brow, but didn't get a chance to ask just what the hell his master meant by  _ meeting _ . Instead, his attention was stolen away by a commotion coming from the other end of the hallway. The area where the stairs were located seemed to suddenly erupt with the sounds of conversation and shuffling feet, the voices of which Soul and Maka immediately recognized as belonging to their friends. As if on cue, the unmistakable figures of Enrique and Harvar emerging from the stairs caught their attention, followed by Jacqueline, Tsubaki, and of course Blair the cat.

The large group only made it a few steps down the hallway before coming to a complete stop. They froze dead in their tracks at the sight of Lord Grim out there in the open, with Tsubaki immediately falling to her knees. The Night Stalker bowed her head, while the other Reapers did the same. Enrique was the only one who didn’t know what to do, and he instead just threw his arms behind his back awkwardly. Soul cringed at the sight, not at all happy with the level of obedience the others were displaying. The Grim however seemed to find it satisfactory, waiving the large group off to stop.

"Lord Grim, I'm sorry we've arrived so late." Tsubaki said quickly, still bowing her head.

Kidd sighed. "It couldn't be helped, I suppose. The three of us will have a meeting on the matter."

The Night Stalker returned to her feet, tossing a look Soul's way as she rose. "When exactly will that be, sir?"

"Right now, actually," The Grim responded, looking to Soul as well. " _ Just  _ the three of us. Maka and the others will stay put."

Not liking at all the idea of being separated from him, Maka looked to her bodyguard. She hoped that there was something he could do, like convince The Grim to allow her to come. It didn't seem like an outrageous request, but from the way he looked back at her she knew that it wasn't going to happen. Soul's face was stiffer than his posture, with red eyes lidded as if deep in thought. His white hair seemed messier than usual; Soul was tired, but most of all worried.

"You guys," he said aloud, though completely focused on her. "Tsubaki and I will be back later. We've got things to take care of."

Tsubaki nodded, looking to Enrique and the others. "I’m sure we won’t be too long. You can wait for us here, if you want."

Harvar simply shrugged. "That's fine with us, we've got nowhere else to be anyway. Right, Jackie?"

"Yes, that sounds fine," Jacqeline replied absently, noticing Maka's worried expression.

Jacqueline frowned at just how distraught her new friend looked. Maka didn't even have the chance to say goodbye before Soul and Tsubaki were herded into the large room by Lord Grim. The two Reapers tossed glances over their shoulder before the large door closed behind them, giving her one last acknowledgement before disappearing. If only she had the opportunity to do the same, Jacqueline thought to herself solemnly. Unfortunately, she didn't. Maka was instead left alone, standing there by herself in the middle of the mostly empty hallway.

Jacqueline made her way towards the young woman, who didn't even notice her approach as she hung her head low. Maka jumped at the sensation of being pulled into a sudden embrace. She looked up, finding Jacqueline's comforting smile there waiting for her as she sunk into the woman's arms.

"It'll be alright, Maka." she said confidently, trying to convince herself as well. "You've got nothing to worry about."

Eyes half closed, she nodded. "I know. Tsubaki wouldn't let anything happen to him."

If only that were true. Soul had said it himself; Tsubaki was ultimately The Grim's servant. In reality, Kidd could do whatever he wanted without consequence. Even murder seemed acceptable with such absolute power, and it was that option that scared Maka the most. Was Soul's life really in danger? And if it was, could she do anything about it? Sadly, Maka already knew the answer. 

Despite promising to watch out for him, she ultimately had no strength to give Soul.

She just had to wait and pray that at the end of this meeting, he’d come back to her.


	16. The Last Order

Once upon a time, The Grim actually trusted him. And maybe at some point, Soul actually trusted him too.

It seemed so long ago that it was a wonder their previous selves hadn't been lost to history itself. But when one lives for centuries, even old memories can be stirred awake by the smallest of things. In this case, it was the wide open room that Soul found himself in after twenty-four years of being absent. The appearance of Kidd in his large, ornate chair at the other end of the table sent the Reaper's mind racing back to days long since passed, to a time when his title, Eater, used to hold so much more meaning.

Back then, the name fit. His lust for souls was incomparable, and the sheer ferocity from which he would wrench them from an unsuspecting person's body sent shivers down the spine of even the most hardened of Reapers. Eater's power went equally unchallenged, with nobody in all of Death being strong enough to restrain him, save for Kidd and a few others. For all intents and purposes, he was the epitome of a monster. The Reaper's infamy spread far and wide amongst the others of his kind and for better or worse, everyone soon knew his name. His scythe became legendary along with him, the red steel of its blade being likened to the blood of those he would kill in order to stave off his never ending thirst for essence.

_ "Eater?" _

All the more reason why it came as such a surprise to him, and to everyone else in The Grim's inner circle, when Kidd decided to assign him somewhere else. A small village in the woods, no less. Far away from the desert where he’d made his name, and even farther away from the person who he had worked for all his life. Faithfully. Like a mongrel mutt. One that apparently was easy to get rid of...

_ "Eater, are you even paying attention?" _

...From then on, things changed. He became synonymous with death itself; The White Haired Reaper, as the village of Loew liked to call him. How on earth they even knew he existed was a mystery, but the persona eventually stuck. In the beginning, his appetite for souls continued as normal, thus inspiring the rhyme that all the children in town knew growing up. But as time went on, his need for souls seemed to fade. That mostly had to do with his main job, which was to watch over a newborn Grigori. Food took a backseat to his strange role as protector and eventually his hunger died almost outright, save for a few here and there to keep him going... 

"Eater!" Kidd's voice boomed, his ever-present calm faltering for a split second.

Soul snapped his head up, a half-dazed look struck across his face. Immediately he searched for Tsubaki, who thankfully was sitting there at the rather large table next to him. The Reaper ran a hand through his hair, unsure as to exactly how long he had been ignoring the conversation taking place. At the other end of the room, The Grim gave an annoyed sigh, motioning with his hand for the two women next to him to continue on. It took Soul a second to realize that it was Liz and Patti, and the sight of the two sisters immediately made him reel again. When the hell did they get there?

"Well," the eldest sister continued, eyeing Soul warily. "His last report came in a little under two weeks ago."

"And that's right around the same time Lyle Noah was put down!" Patti added cheerfully.

Soul cringed at the sound of the dead kid’s name, but what threw him off more was the way those two were making things sound like. He had already told The Grim that Lyle had been disposed of, and that it was well within his rights to do so. It was  _ his  _ territory, and he was simply kind enough to let the boy stay there without killing him. Of course, it ended up happening in the end anyway, but by no fault of his own. Above everything else, of which Kidd had made it painfully clear, Maka was his main priority. If she was in danger, it was his job to take care of the problem. In any way necessary.

The Grim gave a tired sigh. "Yes, we know that much already. Is there anything  _ else  _ that needs to be addressed before we move on?"

"I have a suggestion," Soul interrupted, earning the golden eyed glare of his superior. "How about you cut my allowance already and let me go?"

Kidd shook his head, bitterly annoyed with everyone around him. "Let's just get on with this. I have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment."

Pushing back his chair, Lord Grim stood up from the table. Arms behind his back, the imposing man swiftly made his way around the table and found a spot right behind Tsubaki. The Night Stalker tensed for a moment at the sudden presence of her master, but quickly relaxed again. Soul meanwhile stayed rigid, his eyes not faltering for a second as he glared cautiously at Kidd from afar. Neither he nor The Grim gave the other any leverage, both continuing their silent struggle for dominance that had been going on for what felt like decades.

"As you might already be aware of," The Grim muttered, voice cross. "I've been having some trouble with one of the neighboring villages as of late."

The Reaper leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, heard about it on the train ride over here. Someone’s been killing Reapers who go there?"

Kidd straightened. "I will not have any challenge to my authority, nor will I let those I watch over be slaughtered in such a manner."

"So then why are you standing around telling me all this? Go do something about it." Soul growled, somewhat annoyed.

For once, a tiny smile peaked through Lord Grim's lips. "I was actually thinking of sending you, Eater."

Immediately the white Reaper froze, a look of horror etched deep into his face. He tried to hide it as best he could, but the thought being sent out on a mission  _ now  _ terrified him to no end. It wasn't the fact that other Reapers had died going there, because quite frankly he was probably far stronger than any of them. But what really scared him was the realization that he would be separated from Maka. She'd be left by herself, with possibly only Harvar and Jacqueline to protect her. That was the worst case scenario; Neither were trained fighters, with Harvar being the only one of the two that could hold his own in a brawl. Enrique was a mystery, but he didn't trust any of them anyway.  _ He  _ was her bodyguard, it was  _ his  _ job-!

"...However," Kidd continued on, snatching Soul back to reality. "Due to your current role as Maka's protector, I want you to both stay here. Indefinitely."

Soul blinked. He stole a glance to Tsubaki, who returned his look with equal amounts of shock and bewilderment. Neither knew quite what to say on the matter, with even Soul's sarcasm nowhere in sight. Seemingly pleased, The Grim motioned for the two sisters again. This time it was Patti who responded first, jumping up from her seat with childlike vigor as she pulled out some papers from a file her older sister had given her. The blonde woman rushed over to her master's side, grinning like a three year old who had just been a bagful of candy. The Grim could only shake his head.

"We've already set up a place for you to stay!" Patti chimed, seemingly ecstatic.

Kidd nodded. "The eighth floor of one of the high rises. It's close by. I picked it out myself."

Soul raised a brow. "What about my old place? What happened to it?

"It's still there," Lord Grim replied, before turning around. "I'd prefer you stay close by, however."

The Reaper watched Kidd make his way back to the other end of the table with Patti following faithfully behind him, though not before she tossed the papers in her hand onto the table. Tsubaki eyed them for a moment before taking them up herself, realizing Soul was too busy staring daggers into The Grim to care about paperwork. Intending only to give them a quick glance over at first, she instead froze at the sight of what was written. After picking her jaw off the floor, Tsubaki immediately stuck the packet in Soul’s face, who at that point was forced to give her his full attention.

Grumbling, he took the papers and looked them over himself, and just as quickly let them fall back to the table. His own mouth gaped as well, and for a moment he could say nothing. Obviously finding the whole thing amusing, Liz and Patti snickered to each other at Soul’s expense Neither he nor Tsubakil paid them no mind however, their attention completely fixed on The Grim as he took up his seat once more. Stoically, the man watched as his subordinate swallowed his own tongue.

“...This is script. Money.” Soul pointed to the packet, as if to double check with everyone else. “...Just how much does this translate to, Kidd?”

Lord Grim's expression eased about a degree. "Enough to keep Maka, and to some extension yourself, living comfortably. Indefinitely."

Soul bit the inside of his mouth. The pit of his stomach churned with a hundred different emotions, none of them particularly pleasant. Kidd straightened up in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, seeming to contemplate something as he looked down at the table. The Reaper eyed him wearily, not sure what exactly was going to happen next. This meeting was already full of surprises, and Soul didn't know if he had it in him for another one.

"As for your punishment, Eater." The Grim muttered darkly, still staring down at the table. "I've already made up my mind."

The already silent room became more so. A stillness enveloped everyone, all eyes turning to the stoic Kidd. Soul sat straight, his hardened leer matched only by the The Grim’s equally imposing gaze as he lifted his eyes from the table. The two men seemed to forget about everyone else in the room, their bitter hostility towards one another being the only thing that seemed to matter.

"Well then, what is it?" Soul growled. A fist balled underneath the table.

Kidd became rigid, but just as quickly fell back against his chair. "There will be no punishment."

Teeth clenched. Eyes narrowed. The fist in Soul’s lap shook with a newfound anger that surprised even him. The Grim continued to stare as if interested in seeing how his Reaper would react. Tsubak eyed her friend wearily, literally able to feel the venom as it quickly spread through his veins. Liz and Patti waited with their master silently. Whether or not they were aware of what was going or not was neither apparent nor relevant. All Soul cared about, no,  _ needed,  _ were answers.

"...What do you  _ mean  _ there's no punishment!?" the bitter Reaper hissed, his leg shaking to restrain itself.

"I see no reason to punish you, Eater.” Kidd smiled in return, far out of character. “You were, as you said,  _ just doing your job. _ " 

Quickly losing himself, Soul jumped to his feet as he Lord Grim stood up briskly and turned to walk away. “So that's it!? Just like that!?"

"Oh, actually, no. There's more..." Kidd added, glancing over his shoulder. "...Your last order is to show Maka around the city. Make sure she enjoys her stay here."

Lord Grim looked away, and the meeting was over. Soul watched as he started for the door, not even waiting for Liz and Patty. They simply fell into their silent queue, pushing their chairs in behind them as they rushed to catch up. Tsubaki rose to her feet as soon as they did, only instead of The Grim she went straight to Soul. She knew what was about to happen; Either knowing him well at this point, or the simple fact that she could see it in his face, Tsubaki knew Soul was about to snap. Sure enough, his restraint failed the moment her hand touched his arm. 

" **-What the ** ** _fuck_ ** ** do you want from me!?** " he screamed suddenly, slamming his fist into the table. Wood splintered. " **You son of a bitch! ** ** _Answer me_ ** **!** "

The Grim halted momentarily, his assistants doing the same. Without turning, he gave his response. "Protect Maka with your life. Nothing else."

The conversation ended for good. Not even watching as Lord Grim disappeared with Liz and Patti, Soul vented his anger one final time. With a pained growl, he kicked his chair with enough force to knock it into the wall behind him. Tsubaki waited patiently, a frown on her face as she watched Soul practically rip his own hair out in fury. She’d known him a long time...longer than he probably knew, and understood that all the stress he had been feeling through the past few weeks was finally coming to a boil. In a strange sort of way, she was relieved; He was venting. Pissed off, but venting. It pained her to see him like this, but it would soon be over. She knew it would. 

He...didn't know what he wanted, only that he was angry and there was nothing he could do to fix it. His words were muttered and incomprehensible, even more so as his high of adrenaline started to fade. The strength to destroy things quickly left Soul and, like a child that was coming down from a tantrum, the Reaper struggled to compose himself. Tsubaki finally approached him when she was sure he was over hitting and throwing things. 

"Eater..." she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. The word sounded wrong on her lips. That wasn’t his name anymore. "... _ Soul.  _ You can't let Maka see you like this."

Soul’s heavy breath started to ease. Frustrated and embarrassed, he could only muster a tiny glance at her from the corner of his eye. "...Let’s get out of here, Tsubaki."

Tsubaki smiled faintly. She nodded in reply and motioned for him to take the lead, which he did. The woman followed him to the door opposite where Lord Grim had exited and, with a heavy sigh, Soul took the handle. He hesitated for a moment, most likely to clear his head one last time, then quickly turned it open. To his and Tsubaki's surprise, there wasn't anyone there waiting for them when they first walked out. Expecting their friends to be there in front of the door, both thought for a moment that they'd been kicked out the building or something.

Then Soul turned to the right, and was almost immediately knocked back. He stumbled, struggling to stay on his feet as he found himself on the receiving end of Maka's ardent embrace. The Reaper's eyes widened as she face buried her face into his chest, arms coiled tightly around his torso. Quickly getting over the initial surprise, he wrapped an arm around her as well. 

"Are you alright!?" she asked, her words muffled by his cloak. "What was going on in there? I heard screaming! You had me worried sick!"

"Everything's fine...don't worry about it." Soul smirked, before turning his attention to Harvar who was close by. “Harvar, we’re drinking. Now."

The shaded Reaper raised a brow, neither he nor Soul noticing Maka's sudden horror and confusion. "Is that right? On who’s tab, might I ask?"

"...I'll give you three guesses," Soul replied. As if on queue, Tsubaki approached him from behind and handed him the packet of papers from before.

Harvar looked to Enrique, who in turn shrugged; They had no idea what Soul was talking about, but weren’t above getting drunk as he explained it all to them. Jacqueline, on the other hand, was less than enthusiastic at the premise of her partner drinking alcohol, right along with Maka as the latter pulled away from her bodyguard. She pursed her lips in annoyance, wondering why all of a sudden Soul wanted to make an ass out of himself. She kept her opinion quietly to herself however, as when they started off together down the hallway, Soul leaned over, his arm still around Maka as their heads bumped together tiredly.

"I need this," he mumbled in her ear, exhaustion weighing heavy on his words

She gave him a quick look, before relenting and leaving the subject alone entirely. Whatever had happened in there, Maka would figure it out eventually. In the meantime she’d let him blow off steam. And as the group of seven made their way back outside to the darkened city of Death, Maka held onto him just a little bit tighter than before. 


	17. The Bar

Being the town librarian had its benefits.

For Maka, the most obvious of those was having access to all the knowledge her modest collection of texts and tomes had to offer. It allowed the young woman to be somewhat knowledgeable about most things around her. For example, she knew that the average adult man would get drunk at around three to four shots of whiskey within a window of an hour. Not taking into account variations in height and weight, of course.

Though, that little tidbit only applied to the average male. Soul, she quickly found out, was far from the typical drinker. Harvar as well, as she and Jacqueline noticed from their table far off to the side. The men had their own seats at the bartop, which was several tables away from where the women sat. The three passed between them a bottle of, as Soul had asked, _ the strongest whiskey _ the bar had to offer.

Enrique, the only non-Reaper, struggled to keep up with the steady stream of drinks the other men consistently put down. Maka couldn't help but to gape at the sheer amount of alcohol entering their bodies, unable to grasp right away the concept that Reapers had much higher constitutions until Jacqueline explained it to her. Tsubaki didn't seem at all impressed by the display however, instead focused on swirling the small glass of bourbon in her hand. She stared across the table at the young blonde, a deceptively blank expression on her face.

It was a look that Maka knew was hiding something. Despite Tsubaki’s half-hearted effort to hide it, Maka could tell from the look in her eyes that Tsubaki knew something that she didn't. A coy, almost amused glint hinted in her gaze. She couldn't help but to squirm under the scrutiny of it, purposely averting her own eyes to glance over at the throngs of Reapers that gathered around the bar for another casual night drinking. It was difficult enough having to adjust to being around so many Reapers in such a casual setting. Now she also had to worry about Tsubaki’s almost teasing stare, which was only made worse when Jacqueline suddenly found it necessary to do the same. Finally, Maka relented.

She blew a stray hair from her face, unable to ignore it any longer "Okay, you two. What's with the faces?"

Jacqueline’s lips curled. Tsubaki nearly grinned outright. "...Oh, nothing. We were just wondering how good it was…?"

"...How good what was?" Maka blinked, suddenly feeling very lost. Her ineptness caused the other women to giggle.

"...Whatever you and Soul were doing all alone for so long," Tsubaki practically beamed, as Jacqueline laughed outright.

A switch flipped on. Red immediately flooded the young blonde's face as her friends continued to amuse themselves at her expense. She burned with embarrassment, completely unable to say anything back to defend herself or convince them that they were mistaken. Instead, Maka could only find enough strength to snatch up the lowly cup of water in front of her and suck it down meekly to cool down. Jacqueline and Tsubaki continued to giggle like giddy school girls as the youngest of the three looked desperately to her bodyguard. Maka stared at Soul's back, foolishly thinking for a fleeting second that he could somehow save her. But he couldn’t. She was stuck...

"It's not what you think!" Maka blurted out, her eyes lower than the floor itself. "We didn't do anything like that, I swear!"

"..._ Like that?” _ Jacqueline pointed out with an ever widening smile “So, that means you must have done _ something _together, right?" 

...Damn these Reapers! They knew how to get under her skin. Maka’s face burned like the surface of the sun. "Alright! We...may have kissed….."

"For twenty minutes?" Tsubaki inquired innocently, taking a sip of bourbon. She caught herself quickly. “Not that I was keeping time, or anything like that!”

Maka's eyes widened. Had it really been that long? To be totally honest, she had lost all track of time the second their lips crashed together. It was so dark in that room and he kept her so occupied, it's not like she had time to look for a clock or anything. And even if she did, Maka bitterly knew that it wouldn't have made a difference. She was putty in the bastard's hands, and he knew that fact all too well. Soul used it to his advantage, making her weak in the knees with a simple brush of his breath against her skin. The way his teeth flirted with lips, and his hands...

"I guess it doesn’t matter _ what _you were doing in there," Jacqueline mused. "I’m just impressed that you were the one to break him down like that."

Maka put her embarrassment on the back burner, for now. "_ I broke him down _? Were you all...following his love life, or something?"

"_ Well _..." Tsubaki drawled, sipping her bourbon. "Eater-...Soul, has always been popular with the women here. But he was never one for charm-"

"-Or relationships,” Jacqueline added, already seeing some annoyance on Maka’s face. “I don’t recall him ever cozying up to anyone before, well, _ you _.”

Maka’s expression evened out. She glanced over at where Soul and the other men sat, Tsubaki and Jacqueline doing the same. They spied the other group, their raucous laughter drowning out other conversations as they partook in another round of shots. The women held a collective breath as Soul suddenly straightened up. He was stiff for a moment before tossing a look over his shoulder in their direction, as if able to feel their stares. Maka and the others immediately averted their eyes, though not quick enough to miss Soul raise a brow in amusement. 

"...Eater was famous around here," Jacqueline leaned in. “And not just with the ladies!”

Tsubaki nodded. “There isn't a Reaper in this city that doesn't know about him. He’s a legend in the flesh, and now he’s back.”

"....A legend?" Maka repeated, a fire lit in her stomach. "...He wouldn’t answer me when I asked why everyone was talking about him.”

The Night Stalker smiled faintly. "Soul is young compared to many Reapers and yet, there's no one I know of that's stronger."

"...Besides The Grim, right?" Maka prodded. She became noticeably surprised when Tsubaki gave her a conflicted face, unsure of how to answer.

"In his prime he was one of Kidd’s strongest servants, to the point where it was hard to tell if he was beneath Lord Grim or...equal with him."

Equal? With Kidd? The thought of Soul, the Soul _ she _knew, being held so highly made Maka's spine tingle. She couldn’t fathom him being anything more than the somewhat egotistical bodyguard she’d come to know, but...at the same time it made sense. Peeking at him once more, the woman hid behind her water. Taking a barely casual drink as he did the same from his whiskey, she was forced to retreat once more when he stiffened yet again. This time Soul didn't turn around, electing instead lean over and mutter something in Enrique's ear. The man nodded in agreement. 

"...If he was The Grim's strongest, what happened?." Maka wondered, looking around at the other Reapers in the bar. “Why do they hate each other?”

Tsubaki bit her lower lip, noticeably uneasy. "My personal understanding is that Lord Grim sent him to Loew because he’d be less of a threat there."

Maka raised a brow. "...Are you saying that Kidd was afraid of him? That doesn't make any sense, I thought The Grim was absolute?"

“He is," Jacqueline replied, her words lacking confidence. "But, a hundred years ago, Eater wasn’t like how you know him now-”

_ "-He was a lot more violent, and hungry. If you think his drinking is bad, you should've seen him put down souls." _

All three women turned towards the direction of a familiar voice, finding Harvar standing there behind them. Jacqueline immediately flattened her gaze at the visor-wearing man, sending him a dirty look as he pulled up a chair from a nearby table to sit down in. He at first raised a brow, confused as to why she was giving him such a poisonous glare. Quickly he understood however, sinking a little as his partner motioned to the still full glass of whiskey in his hand. He let it sit on the table, pushing it meekly out of the way in defeat.

Jacqueline folded her arms across her chest. "You’re one to call the kettle black. _ Both _of you were idiots back then, if recall correctly!"

Harvar cleared his throat. "I’m not the one who nearly killed a man over a stupid bar tab. I told him I was going to pay him back!

"Don't give me that!" the woman parried, noticing Maka's horrified gape. "Don't listen to him, Maka. Harvar was planning to skip on paying!"

"I was not..." Harvar grumbled, poking at his glass of whiskey. There was no strength in his retort. “...Didn’t give him the right to shake me down, anyway…”

Tsubaki rolled her eyes, already tired of the conversation. She took one last sip from her bourbon and motioned for Maka to follow her. The latter shot the pair of soul collectors a glance before pushing her chair back. They seemed too preoccupied bickering to notice her and Tsubaki leave, the two of them headed directly for the bartender to refill the Reaper's empty glass. Not that Maka had a problem with that, considering her own drink had whittled down to nothing from drinking it out of embarrassment so many times.

The only thing she seemed wary of was being so close to Soul. He struck up muttered conversation with a drunken Enrique as the two women approached on the opposite end of the bar. Tsubaki politely called the bartender over and asked for another small glass, to which the man immediately obliged. As Tsubaki fiddled with the last of her alcohol, Maka could feel a pair of red eyes as they stared unapologetically at her. She met his gaze for a fleeting moment, until his own quickly fell to the exposed areas of her body. Pinking, Maka turned away, knowing all too well of Soul's eager, sharp toothed grin.

"I don't think I need to tell you that Harvar wasn't exaggerating, do I?" Tsubaki asked plainly, passing a cup of water to her friend.

Maka shook her head. "Whatever Soul was like back then doesn’t matter now. To me, he’s just regular old Soul.”

A smile crawled across Tsubaki’s lips. "In all seriousness, though...how was it, Maka? Is he a good kisser?"

"Tsubaki!" the young woman croaked, embarrassed all over again. "I don’t think...I should say anything..."

"Oh, come on, Maka! I'm over four hundred years old! Gossip like this only comes once in a century!”

Blowing a stay hair from her face, the young woman tried her best to remain calm. That was hard to do however, what with Tsubaki’s constant prying into her love life. Even worse, her questions became purposely louder so as to draw Soul's attention to their already less than secret conversation. So after a minute or two of putting up with her uncharacteristically obnoxious friend, Maka finally broke down and divulged everything. The darkened room, the coiled arms, the feeling of just how _ sharp _his teeth actually were against her skin, and just about anything else she could think of. All as the two women sat down and sipped their drinks, and all while Maka tried her very best to ignore the very man she talked about.

By the time the story was over and Tsubaki was satisfied with the details, the bourbon and water had long since disappeared. Jacqueline and Harvar were still at their own table, though the bickering from before was nowhere to be seen. They smiled and talked, not seeming to have missed either woman. Enrique became lost in his own devices, the poor cabby plastered beyond reason. He laid his head on the table as the others stared, the only one not seeming to care or notice being Soul as he continued to drink without his partner. Maka and Tsubaki meanwhile watched them both, the former giving a heavy sigh as the weight of her secret affair was lifted from her shoulders.

The latter simply let her head fall on woven fingers. "Sounds like he didn't give you much choice in the matter."

Maka gave a tiny smile. "Even if he did, I don't think it would have made much of a difference."

"Are you sure about that?" Tsubaki prodded, watching as Soul tried to shake Enrique awake. "You seem a bit too smart for him."

"What's that supposed to mean!" the blonde growled, surprising both herself and Tsubaki with her level of defense.

The Reaper quickly covered her tracks. "I meant that he's cool and methodical! Just, not book smart like you..."

Maka huffed, but didn't push the subject further. In all honesty she didn't know why Tsubaki's comment aggravated her, because quite frankly the woman was right. Soul was always so suave, though half the time he was just as lost as she was when it came to Reapers matters. At least she had an excuse, considering she'd just been introduced to all of this not even three weeks ago. Soul on the other hand had over two hundred years to figure this stuff out, although she could understand why he was so clueless. It's not like they'd had a major breakthrough with his past in the three days since he'd told her about it.

"Just, do me a favor?" Tsubaki spoke up, after a moment of silence between them. "If you plan on pursuing him, please be careful."

Maka raised a brow, slightly taken aback. "Be careful for what? I think he’s earned our trust at this point...don’t you?"

"Of course I do.” There was a look in Tsubaki’s eyes, but Maka couldn’t place the intent behind it. “I’m just...worried what he’ll do.."

"Tsubaki, he would never do anything to hurt me,” Maka replied wearily. “You...make it sound like he's an animal?" 

The Night Stalker looked at her bourbon. A frown marred her face. "Maybe that's the point, Maka.”

After that, neither of them said anything to each other. Tsubaki found her warning had hit home, noticing from the corner of her eye as Maka focused all of her attention on Soul. A look of forlorn splashed across her face, the Night Stalker sighed at the realization she had probably just damned a blossoming romance. She pushed her glass away bitterly, thinking that the blonde had taken her words too close to heart. Four hundred and seventy-six years on this Earth, and she still found it difficult to give relationship advice. Perhaps telling someone their would-be-lover was a monster wasn't the best course of action.

Lost in her own piteous thoughts however, Tsubaki barely noticed as Maka suddenly stood up from her stool and started to walk away. At first thinking she just needed to go to the bathroom or something, the Reaper simply waved her off. Very quickly however, she realized no one was escorting the Grigori. All alone in a sea of Reapers, if even for a moment, was just begging for trouble. And everyone being too preoccupied with their own affairs, no one had enough sense to walk with her, or at the very least watch her. Tsubaki sunk in her stool and gaped, realizing she too had lost track of Maka.

In a sudden burst of panic, the Reaper jumped up from her seat to begin scouring the bar for her. Heart pounding a million miles an hour, thankfully the first place she looked was the right place. For some reason thinking to look where Soul sat, Tsubaki watched from afar as Maka took up the chair right next to him. They exchanged a few words, before the sharp toothed man practically jumped back in surprise. He said something to her. Maka nodded. And as the Night Stalker slowly eased into her chair as she continued to stare, Soul called over the bartender for another drink. Only this time it wasn't another shot of whiskey, but the same glass of bourbon Tsubaki had been drinking all night. And instead of drinking it himself, the white Reaper passed it to none other than the usually abstinent Maka.

She got a quick whiff of it, before taking a drink outright. Soul snorted in laughter, watching her shudder from the alcohol as it slid down her throat.

All this while Tsubaki watched. A somber smile pulled at her face as she watched Soul and Maka talk amongst themselves, acting as if they were the only two people in the bar.


	18. The City of Death

"You don't suppose I made a mistake in assigning him to her, do you Elizabeth?"

Having barely listened to a single word Kidd was saying until the mention of her name, the blonde haired, busty Reaper blinked back to reality. She and her sister were The Grim's personal assistants. One would assume that she waited dutifully on her master's beck and call, though that was certainly not the case. Thompson sisters Liz and Patti catered to no one, _ especially _their privileged and enigmatic leader. That wasn’t to say they didn’t serve him to the best of their ability, but to call the women servants would have been a gross overstatement of their relationship with Kidd. Lord Grim himself knew this all too well, and it didn't really faze him when he realized his closest subordinate hadn't been paying any attention. Her thoughts were focused on much more important things, that being her face and nails.

But as she swiveled around in the leather chair of Lord Grim's personal room of retreat, interest piqued in her face. Kidd closed the large folder of documents he had just skimmed over and leaned back in his chair, letting his head rest on a closed fist. Liz crossed her arms and legs as she searched the stoic man's face for any hint of emotion. She knew her quirky master all too well and, though he never showed it outright, Liz could tell how he felt by just the slightest glimmer of humanity in his eyes.

Sort of like how, at that moment, they seemed much more excited than usual. "You know as well as I do that you're too busy for that."

"That's not what I asked and you know it." The Grim replied flatly, averting his gaze to the rows of bookshelves that lined the room.

Liz leaned back and sighed. He’s right, she _ did _know what he was implying. "That village is killing you either way."

"Indeed." Kidd muttered, absently flipping the folder open again. "Needle Village has been a thorn in my side for far too long."

'Well then why do you insist on _ worrying _so much about Eater? What's the worst possible thing that could happen, Kidd?"

Lord Grim gave a fleeting glance to the look of impatience smeared across Liz’s face, only able to muster a heavy sigh as he picked himself up from his antique chair. The woman shook her head, knowing full well that her master was just being stubborn. He had a level head, with thousands of years of knowledge trapped inside and all the wisdom and patience that old age affords. There was only one problem hidden behind that pleasant face of his, besides the aforementioned stubbornness, of course. Kidd displayed it as he went to the bookcase behind him and fiddled with the books. A few of them were askew, and his obsession with symmetry always presented itself whenever he was lost in thought.

"I don't trust him,” Lord Grim muttered tiredly, looking at the spine of one of his many books.

Running a hand through her long hair, the Thompson sister huffed before rising to her feet. Brushing off the lint from her red and white suit, she went around the mahogany desk and quickly snatched the red, title-less book out from her master’s hands. He blinked at her audacity, but again wasn’t surprised. Liz put the reading material back in its place and crossed her arms, as if demanding for an explanation from him. Kidd smiled faintly in amusement at just how much he let her get away with. His expression put her somewhat at ease, and she smiled back.

"...Before you ask me anything, no. I don't feel like elaborating." The Grim closed his eyes. His face reset, but the hint of a smirk still lingered.

"Don't pull that on me, _ Lord Grim. _" Liz sneered in return. "You've always hated him, and now that he’s back you’re being reminded of it all over again."

Kidd let his golden eyes peek out at her. She waited for him to continue. He didn’t want to, but eventually The Grim relented. "Perhaps...but I really do respect him."

Liz raised a brow, genuinely surprised he had admitted that out loud. It almost made her proud. "Okay, so then why don’t you trust him? He’s done everything you’ve asked so far."

"Because, Elizabeth…” Kidd sighed. He always called her by her full name. He knew it annoyed the shit out of her. “I'm afraid of what might happen if he takes this assignment of his too far."

Pivoting, The Grim made his way back towards his seat. Only, instead of sitting down in it, he leaned against it with folded arms and bowed his head. Neat, black hair fell to the floor. Again he became deep in thought, and again it was Liz who had to pry out whatever was bugging him. She wasn’t used to dealing with such an expressive Kidd before, and part of her felt sorry for him. The man carried himself so well most of the time and yet there he was, looking like a simple man with simple problems.

"Kidd," she finally spoke up. It was her job to snap it out of it. "Could you just tell me what's bugging you already. Please?"

Lord Grim looked up at her, brows furrowed. "He’s to guard her with his life. That was the one thing I made clear to him since day one."

"....Right, which is a good thing,” Liz replied, trying to sound reasonable. “You obviously can't have her dying on you. It’d ruin your whole plan." 

Kidd sighed in aggravation. "Humans are easily swayed, Elizabeth. What if...she takes this as a romantic gesture? The complications that would create!"

Already knowing exactly what complications he was talking about, Liz shook her head. She walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, though the latter barely even acknowledged her presence. Without warning though, she took her other hand smacked the back of his head. Kidd immediately straightened, a menacing glower sagging across his face as he turned to face her. She smiled back at him, not at all put off by the fact that the most powerful man in the world was furious with her at the moment. In the centuries they’d been together, Liz and Patti Thompson knew only one thing for sure; The Grim, master of Reapers, darkness, and death itself, would never hurt them. He cared about them, and they him.

That didn't stop her from choosing her words carefully, though. "Look...it's been a few days since they arrived here, right?"

Kidd nodded, and Liz continued. "So there's nothing to worry about! A girl’s not gonna go head over heels for a guy just like that!"

"Again, you're underestimating the human psyche." Lord Grim muttered, smoothing out the bump on his head. "They're far too impressionable."

The woman wagged her finger. "And _ you're _ overestimating _ him. _You really think someone would fall for a man who only looks at them as their next dinner?"

For a second, Kidd stared at her with a blank face and empty thoughts. Slowly but surely however, Liz could see her words start to register across his face. She let out a grin and pulled out the chair next to him before taking a seat. Kidd was just being melodramatic, Liz thought to herself. She supposed that came with the territory though, since everything about his job seemed all doom and gloom.

"All you have to do is take care of this stupid rebellion, and then you can take the time to focus on your next plan." The Reaper encouraged.

Lord Grim looked to her, then at the folder on his desk, before nodding. "I suppose you're right, Elizabeth. I was just over thinking things."

"Of course I'm right!" Liz replied, still grinning. Leaving it simply at that, Kidd tossed her one last glance, and nodded one final time.

She was right. He didn't have anything to worry about. Eater’s ferocity may have waned over the years, but he was still one of _ those _Reapers. Sharp toothed and hungry for souls, there was little else running through their minds other than where their next meal was coming from. He'd never attack Maka of course; Despite their resentment towards one another, he still had to listen to him. And, it seemed, Eater did take at least that part of his assignment seriously.

Tsubaki would also make sure that things ran smoothly. He never ordered her outright, but he trusted his Night Stalker. There wouldn't be any such nonsense as infatuation to happen between him and Maka Albarn.

* * *

For several nights, days, whatever...it played out much the same way.

The Grim's final order was to show Maka around the city. And, like a compulsion, Soul had to follow it.

Time was different in Death, so falling asleep and waking up took practice. It was always dark, so newcomers to the city had to go strictly off the clock. For Maka, this breaking in period was only further compounded by their new accommodations. And by _ theirs, _she of course meant Soul as well. That part also took some getting used to...really, this was a fish-out-of-water experience for the both of them.

There weren’t any apartments in Loew. She didn’t even know what that was until Soul explained the gist of everything. Most places weren’t as...advanced, as Death City. He’d figured she’d be lost by all this new stuff. All things considering, Maka actually acclimated to everything pretty quickly. The living together part, though, not so much. At least not at first, anyway. It helped that this place Kidd had picked out for them had separate rooms, both on completely opposite ends of a long hallway. Soul internally grimaced at the thought of otherwise having to sleep on the couch. If he had to, he would, of course...but he wouldn’t like it.

Accommodations aside, neither of them spent much time there except for eating and sleeping. After the initial shock of realizing she was stuck there had passed, Maka saw this as a learning opportunity...and boy did she like learning. Soul’s initial concern going into this was she’d be depressed and forlorn at not being able to go back home. After their first couple days going up and down the city however, his new concern was that they were going to run out of things to do before the week was through. 

Together with the others in tow, they scoured Death for new things to do. Jacqueline and Harvar were in the city to recover from an extended journey collecting rare souls, so they were more than happy to follow along and relax. Enrique was always a chatterbox and enjoyed the extra company, while Tsubaki was always accepting of more friends, regardless. The only little member of their group that didn’t tag along was Blair, for obvious reasons. She remained back at the apartment, lounging about without a care in the world.

Neon signs emanating pastel glows ushered in potential customers off the streets, the most successful of those belonging to restaurants and bars. The latter would always get Soul’s attention, and that in turn would always earn him a glaring look of disapproval from Maka. He never said anything though and would always jam his hands into his pockets. At first, Maka thought her bodyguard was a borderline alcoholic and didn’t know it, but after the first few exchanges, Harvar chuckled.

“Even if he wanted to drink, I doubt they’d let him in,” the man explained. “Old reputations die hard.”

That was a recurring theme during their outings. Some streets were more crowded than others, and at times the group was shoulder-to-shoulder with each other as they struggled to get to emptier streets. In those instances, Maka stayed tightly packed next to Soul. Absently, or maybe just not caring, his arm would be around her waist. Even being so close and within ear shot of him, comments and whispers erupted unabashedly as they trucked forward. White hair, red eyes...no doubt about it. Eater was back in Death City.

Maka knew he could hear them, but she never once saw a grin out of him. She always saw him as egotistical, or at the very least fancied himself as something to be noticed and given attention. His face was always stoic though, as if purposefully trying to tune them out or just genuinely not caring about what they had to say. The most logical reason though was the one that made her smile secretly to herself; He was only focused on her, making sure that none of the other Reapers got bold and tried anything. She was his.

That was another thing. This thing they had going on between them now...it wasn’t outwardly spoken or really even talked about. Not even in the privacy of their new home together did they mention anything that happened in the dark room, nor did they have an encounter like that since. That wasn’t to say they hadn’t, well...done _ anything. _In fact, it was almost daily that they found a few fleeting moments to sneak in a kiss or clutch certain parts of one another. Never in front of anyone, though. Soul was surprisingly sneaky when he wanted to be, and he always found a place to hide away no matter what. 

It was a game they had unwittingly become players in. Any time the rest of the group became distracted, or one when she had to go to the bathroom (because _ somebody _ had to escort her), they’d steal away for a second. Sneak in an embrace, light a fire, let it smolder, then return before anyone become none the wiser. Except, Maka knew deep down that _ everyone _knew. They weren’t stupid, especially not Tsubaki. Her especially, who would purposefully try to start up a conversation with the others whenever the two of them left. She tried to get the heat off them. A true friend.

Those instances though were sparse, broken up in between by long bouts of sightseeing. Aside from experiencing this newfound romance of hers, Maka wanted just as badly to take in everything the city had to offer her. It was all the same to Soul who, unlike her, had been to Death before, but found himself hazy on all the important places and details. It’d been a quarter century since he’d been back, some stuff had certainly changed. This trip was a refresher course for him as it was a new lesson for Maka. Though, there was one glaring issue that impeded her learning...

“There’s a park here?” the woman pointed out as the group passed by it. “How does that work with no sun?”

Soul opened his mouth to explain, but then immediately found he had no answer. “Uhm...good question.”

….The city itself made no goddamn sense, and nobody could really explain why. Minor things, like the park, could just be chalked up to Reaper stuff, or the shell around Death City. But other things, bigger things, irked Maka to no end. All of these lights use electricity, but where was it all coming from? Where did they get all the steel to make these giant highrise buildings? There wasn’t a foundry anywhere that she could see, so they must have brought it all in. But how? The train? It only carried passengers, no cargo. And all the food? Water? _ The plumbing... _

“...When it comes to Reapers,” Tsubaki smiled, rubbing Maka’s back. “It’s best to just let some things go.”

That answer ended up being Maka’s saving grace. At first, it frustrated her not being able to know specifically _ why _something was the way it was. But the more she let go of that need to chronicle everything, the more she found herself simply enjoying the time together with her friends. In the end it didn’t really matter where that fried treat they’d gotten from a street vendor came from, or why steam came from vents in the road. Their little motley group seemed content to wander and enjoy one another’s company. For Maka, who had never experienced anything like this before, it was more than enough to put her at ease; She had friends now. And, of course, Soul.

Despite Death’s eternal night however, their explorations of the city lasted only so long. Even Reapers needed sleep, and no amount of excitement could change that. Maka was the most wide-awake of the bunch, seeing as how her internal clock was already in jumbles, but she knew when it to call it quits. The others would express their intentions and promptly wave goodbye until the following night, and all would go their separate ways. Aside from Soul, who loved nothing more than to watch the others disappear before setting his sights on Maka.

She’d pink. He’d sneer. Their hands would coil, and they’d walk down the streets of Death alone. Towards their apartment, which was still weird to say out loud. Despite the seemingly endless debauchery of Reapers, there were lulls in the city’s eternal darkness. Its inhabitants all seemed to agree on when to go to bed, or at least when it was appropriate to do so. Many others stayed up, but enough didn’t to where it genuinely felt like a normal night out. Fewer people roaming the streets, and quieter strolls overall.

Perfect for the two of them to have a quiet walk, just the two of them. Their first night heading back though...there wasn’t a lot of walking involved. Just a lot of ducking behind alleyways, only long enough to steal away from any lone Reaper who might be roaming the streets and spot them tasting one another’s lips. Maka felt like one of those school girls in the books she used to read, obsessing over boys and doing dumb stuff like this.

She didn’t hate it, though.

But, it did take them forever to get back home doing so. After that, Maka was pretty adamant about sticking to the street. It irked Soul immensely, but the Reaper eventually cooled off and relented. Honestly, part of him was fine just like this; The two of them walking, minding their own business, enjoying one another’s company. Admittedly it reminded him of when they would just talk back at her place in Loew. He appreciated the simple companionship and, if that’s all Maka wanted, then he’d oblige. For now.

“So, how you enjoying your vacation so far?” he asked, the pair again finding themselves walking back home after an evening of sight seeing.

Maka smirked. She glanced down at their woven fingers. “I think you already know the answer to that. Although, I wouldn’t call it a vacation.”

“Yeah,” Soul mused, eyes narrowing in thought. He’d tried not to think about it much, until now. “More like...forced relocation, I guess.”

“Whatever you want to call it,” Maka pinked, looking away. “So long as you’re with me, I wouldn’t mind staying...permanently.”

“...That sounds suspiciously like forever, Maka,” Soul gave a devilish grin, one she couldn’t see as she stared straight ahead.

Not paying attention to him, the woman was at his mercy and didn’t even know it. Without warning, she found herself being pulled into a nearby alleyway. At first letting out a yelp, her call was muffled by a pair of familiar lips as they collided against hers. Maka’s eyes half-lidded, knowing full well that this was going to happen. She knew he couldn’t resist himself, and quite frankly she was glad that he couldn’t. 

Pressing Maka against the wall with all of his weight, the Reaper loomed over his prey. She lifted her head up to meet his kiss. He dug his hands into the brick wall behind her. They tasted one another eagerly, as if having been starved all day. Sharp teeth scraped soft lips, earning a tiny, pained groan. Soul didn’t know whether that meant to keep going or stop; In the end, he just kept doing what he was doing, which seemed to be what she wanted.

A passionate few moments, and the Reaper broke away suddenly. Still leaning in for the kiss, Maka pulled back when she no longer felt him. Soul took a deep breath and leered down at the entirety of her; The white cloak he swore, the way her hair trailed down and teased the only exposed parts of her skin. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to rip that damn thing off and see the rest of her. 

Soul couldn't seem to help himself. He leaned in with fangs exposed, but not for a kiss. Instead he buried his head into the crook of her neck. Again Maka yelped, her mind flooded with the memory of their last encounter together. She melted when teeth sank into her flesh. It hurt, much like last time, but dammit she didn’t want him to stop. The Reaper chuckled as he felt skin heat up, Maka's entire body becoming red right before his very eyes. She was his now.

"You always look good,” he breathed heavily, letting the words roll off her neck. “But right now you taste even better.”

If she heard him at that moment, Maka gave no indication. The only response Soul got was the sound of her sharp breath and the feeling of her hands as they started to run through the back of his thick hair. She just stood there, staring off into space with half-lidded eyes and accepting everything he gave her. Every scrape of his teeth and lap of his tongue, she felt it through every part of her. Maka’s toes curled. Something burned in her. She needed him.

Not the way he’d been giving himself to her. Maybe being teased all these days had finally taken its toll, but right now she wanted all of him. Maka would admit it all day long if she knew that would convince him; Yes, he’d played his cards right. Yes he was suave, and yes he was strong and handsome. He knew how to make her knees buckle and dammit, right now they were non-existent. There were no magic words to turn this alleyway into their apartment, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying. 

Maka pulled the hair on the back of Soul’s head. He grunted in pain and surprise, but was silenced by her hungry voice in his ear. “Soul.”

"...Yeah?" The man looked straight ahead. Something in her voice told him not to move or even look at her. His imagination ran wild.

"I need you take me home," Maka commanded. She clutched her bodyguard greedily and teased the corner of his ear with her teeth. “_Now.” _

The Reaper froze. He was silent for a moment as his heart suddenly lurched forward, damn near out of his chest completely. He slowly pulled away to meet Maka’s eyes with his own, in them a silent plea to do as she asked and not argue. Not that he’d want to. Quite the contrary, Soul found himself doing what was asked...no, _ commanded _of him. That self-confidence of his was nowhere to be seen as he pushed himself off the wall and held a hand out for Maka to take, like a child asking his crush out to a dance.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied dutifully. For once, he actually seemed like a professional bodyguard.

Maka ate it up. She took his hand, and he immediately started off with her towards the street. They weren’t far from home. He’d get here there quickly. As for what would happen once they got there, that was entirely up to her. Soul remained stoic as Maka walked by his side, no inclination as to what was said or even how he was thinking at that moment. Maka didn’t look at him the entire way home. She just held tightly onto his hand and every once in a while would squeeze it, as if to let him know that she hadn’t forgotten about him.

In fact, he was the only thing she could think about the whole walk over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrote the last half of this chapter. Hopefully it fixed more problems than it created


	19. The Confession

It seemed wrong the more Soul thought about it. In his defense though, there wasn't a whole lot of thinking going on right now.

He was assigned by Lord Grim to watch over her almost twenty-five years ago. From that time, up until now as she knelt before him, Soul never would have believed for even a fleeting second that Maka Albarn, Loew's token know-it-all, would grow up to be like _this. _If he had known just how incredible she would look arching her back towards him as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, with nothing on but their underwear, the Reaper would've prepared himself. Maybe he would have been able to stop their whirlwind courtship from happening altogether. He could've made the smart choice, and stayed hidden.

...Or not. Probably not, at least. Realistically, the Reaper once known as Eater just couldn't help himself. If things had turned out different, maybe; If Lyle Noah hadn't damned himself and just kept a low profile, Soul would have never needed to reveal himself. Maka would have never went looking for him, and he wouldn't have been invited into her home. They wouldn't have become friends, confidants, and, Soul mused as the woman reached backwards to grab a fistful of hair, lovers. He buried his face into the pit of her shoulder. His body shuddered at the sight of her; On her knees, back pressed up against him, ready.

She moaned when a set of fangs sunk into her skin, and Soul knew that this was it. Maka was his for the taking, her permission she graciously gave him by tugging his white locks pleadingly. The Reaper grinned as he kissed up her neck towards her cheek, fighting back a grunt when their lower selves started to greet each other much more intimately. It was scary how quickly Soul began to lose himself at the feeling of Maka's ass slowly working its way against his better half. The thought of being just inches away from claiming her sent the man's heart pumping faster than ever. He knew she could feel it start to race, too. Why else would she start moving faster? Maka was trying to get him worked up, to be conniving. He fucking loved it.

"I never took you for the seducing type." Soul breathed into her ear, still enjoying the motion against his quickly growing bulge.

She tossed a glance over her shoulder and smiled without ever letting up. "Why? Am I seducing you right now, Soul?"

He swallowed his tongue. For a bookworm, Maka really knew how to tease a guy. Not that he didn't enjoy it, far from it. It's just that in all the times he'd imagine them actually doing it, which admittedly had been a _fucking lot lately, _Soul thought that he'd be the one in control of the situation. Maka had a habit of deflating his ego whenever she could, however. Kind of like now as he gripped her waist, wondering if now was a good a time as any to take off that tiny piece of clothing that separated her from him. Only instead of making the decision for himself, the blonde beat him to the punch. Soul raised a brow, watching as Maka started to tug at her own panties.

Pride kept him from being a mere bystander. The Reaper bit into her, enjoying the audible gasp she made as he quickly pulled that damn underwear down her legs. They both squirmed to get it off, tossing it along with his own underwear somewhere in the corner. Soul snickered when he pulled Maka against him, already feeling the hot warmth of her blush as their bodies melted into one another. Whether or not she was embarrassed of being seen completely naked, he couldn't say. All he did know was that once he felt the woman's bare skin against his, any self control he'd been hanging onto immediately went out the window.

Soul only lasted a few more seconds of bumping and grinding before taking matters into his own hands. Quite literally, in fact. He snaked his hands down the length of her stomach, all the way down until finally touching the only place on her body he hadn't already. Eager fingers found their mark and immediately got to work getting better acquainted with what was now his, and only his. Soul growled into her ear when she gave a sudden buck from the stimulation. An eager gasp from Maka's lips sounded like music to the Reaper's ears. He wanted to hear more.

"Bend over," he commanded as she writhed, fingers wet from teasing her innermost walls.

Maka hesitated for a moment, and Soul could feel her tighten up in his arms. But the feeling was short lived, as she was again reminded of his touch. A little more stimulation was all it took. Soul held his breath when a minute later, Maka finally leaned forward. She couldn't see his face, thankfully. Otherwise, Soul would've had to fully admit that a look for mild terror had swept across it. This was really happening. Fuck, he wanted it to. But at the same time, Soul knew there was no going back from this. The thought was scary, but he didn't dwell on it. The Reaper cast it aside when he grabbed hold of her waist and held her tight. Maka gave a small squeal of shock and pleasure, not expecting nor knowing when he'd enter her until it finally happened.

She didn't see it, but _god _did she feel him.

Maka gripped the sheets as he slowly fed himself into her. She pushed back, groaning in pleasant pain when he finally hit the end of his length. The woman flipped her hair out of her face and adjusted, taking time to appreciate what it really felt like having him inside of her. Soul growled in a low rumble, patiently waiting for some kind of sign from Maka. Keep going slow? Fast? Whatever she wanted. Despite the silent plea though, Maka said nothing. She instead started to grind on him as he loomed over her, jerking his lower self in all kinds of directions. She moaned. He almost did, too.

Soul gave a thrust, ending Maka's motion. She gasped as another came, and another. His quick, forceful shoves were appreciated, but slowly devolved into strokes that sent the young woman's head spinning after every lap. Huffing and moaning, this time from both of them, became more frequent and steady as the bed started to move in equally steady beats. Maka hugged the mounted Reaper as tightly as she could, the latter only growing more eager to experience every last part of her. His face soon became buried in the pit of her back, kissing and licking the woman's soft, creamy skin as she continued to feel him lay claim to her from behind. With each passing second, Soul's strokes became harder, more forceful. And with every increase in strength, Maka would give another blood pumping squeal or moan that got him excited all over again.

It wasn't enough though. Despite the _amazing _feeling of her enveloping him, taking Maka from behind could only give him so much. He wanted everything and simply staring at the back of her head as she moaned and groaned just wasn't gonna cut it. So after a few more minutes of grinding and thrusting, the pair seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time. They broke off, just long enough for him to lean down and whisper in Maka's ear.

"Please..." His words were needy, pained, and desperate. It made Maka's toes curl. "...Lay down and let me fuck you."

That was all she needed. A flip had never been done faster. Before Soul knew it she was there, completely exposed and laid bare for him to do what he wanted with. Blonde hair flung in all directions, some stringing over the woman's face and in her mouth. Soul stared down at her, red eyes hungry and drool beading at the corner of his mouth. The sight of her, of Maka, staring back up at him with that look of...total openness. Trust. Need. Want. It fucked him up. He'd never experienced something like this before. Soul wanted it, greedily. It was his now. She was his now. He fucking wanted it, whatever _it_ was.

The Reaper took it for himself. He pounced on the prey that lay before him, She gave a hazed smile as their lower halves collided once more, the feeling both familiar and new. He said nothing, instead finding it much easier to let actions speak louder than words. His strokes returned, this time as Maka threw her legs around him to help facilitate the motion. That goddamn stare of hers never disappeared though, and it sent Soul's mind reeling every time he opened his eyes to look down at her. Every grunt from him came louder because of it. Every stroke, stronger than the last. 

"Soul..." she breathed, throwing her head to the side as he laid into her.

That was his invitation. Razor teeth latched onto exposed neck, a sharp breath from Maka at the first feeling of his assault. Her eyes half-closed at the sensation, and she accepted the pain along with pleasure. It felt like something was going to give soon; Whether that was the growing pressure that built up in in the depths of their passion, or her very soul as the Reaper tried to bite it our of her, Maka couldn't see. Only Soul knew. It was up to him at this point. She was just the willing victim and participant. Anything he wanted out of her, she would give him, gladly.

Soul wanted to say something. Whisper in her ear, be romantic, make her head go crazy, all that jazz. His main priority right this very moment, however, was to get them through the final stretch. Maka's heavy breaths grew only deeper and more strained; He knew she was getting close. He was right there with her, it taking everything he had no to lose it all right then and there. Maka was going to hit the edge first, dammit. He wouldn't be satisfied until he heard her lose it for him. He refused to be the reason for the evening to end. Something had to give. It was almost time.

Maka arched her back. Soul reared up. She gave him the perfect angle, and in the throes of one last burning moment of ecstacy, Soul knew that it was now or never. He held himself up and put everything he had into a sprint of the strongest thrusts he could summon. Immediately, Maka responded with shaking legs and squeals of pleasure. Soul hammered into her, trying with every last ounce of self restraint to not completely lose it at the last second. Maka meanwhile did the opposite; She reached up and tried to grab hold of something, anything. She dug her nails into his shoulders and stared at him pleadingly, trying desperately to meet his strokes with halfhearted bucks into him. She wanted release. He wanted to stave off his.

In the end, they both met somewhere in the middle.

And after a few more seconds, it finally happened. The room went black for a second, at least for Soul, anyway. Stars filled the void, followed by the rest of his vision as it quickly returned to him. Followed by his hearing, and the sound of Maka's muffled scream as she threw a pillow over her face. Soul shuddered as he continued to leave himself inside her, not knowing nor caring if this was fine or not. There were no protests from Maka regardless, the woman in fact pulling him in more to take him for all he was worth. Soul gave a few more strokes, but they had no strength behind them. If anything, they were just to make sure that the job was finished. Satisfied, spent, and exhausted, Soul collapsed on top of the woman. His face buried itself into her chest.

Maka let her legs slump tiredly. She seemed dazed and tired, but most of all, satisfied. "That was..."

"...Fucking amazing," he finished for her, enjoying the view of her breasts rising and falling.

She smiled faintly and nodded. Soul looked up at her, his red eyes being the only part of his face that was exposed. She gazed back down at him, and the two simply watched each other for a moment. Then, after gathering what little strength remained in him, the Reaper pulled himself up took his place over Maka. He hovered over her for a moment, before their breathless lips came together on their own. Their kiss this time was born of want, as if to reaffirm what had just happened and to promise that it would happen again. They relished in their embrace for a long few minutes, before pulling back to suck in air for round two. Soul stared down at her with lidded eyes, but to his surprise the woman started to giggle. He raised a brow, and started to glower when she only giggled more.

"The hell's so funny?" he asked with a gentle gruffness, cautious of the way Maka's lips curled in a smile.

She reached up to kiss him again, letting her arms wrap around his neck as she held him tight. "Nothing. I love you, Soul."

The Reaper's eyes widened. What...did she just say to him? In his head, Soul tried to convince himself that he was only hearing things. Maka's seemed to beg otherwise, however; As if sensing his apprehension, she pulled away slightly and stared up at him with shining emerald eyes. Breath tickled his lips as her gaze never faltered, making Soul's insides lurch in a hundred different directions. He couldn't believe it. Nor could he believe his almost immediate reaction, which was to press their foreheads together and go in for another, longing kiss. She obliged and pulled him down on top of her. Was this...really his response?

...Could he, in all honestly, give any other? Soul had fought Reapers, stolen souls, and even seen death itself countless times before. There was a laundry list of things he had done and an even longer one of people he'd done them to. Lines of women in Death City had promised him good times before, and with admittedly bigger endowments than Maka (though he'd never taken them up on it). But none of those things, those experiences, compared to how Maka made him feel. He was stronger because of her, and weaker, too. He wasn't the White Haired Reaper to her. He wasn't Eater. He was just...Soul. For some reason, to her, that was enough. She gave him a name. She made him feel wanted. She made him feel...loved. 

It was at that moment he pulled away. A half-grin is what he showed her. A grateful smile, he hid. "Yeah...I love you, too, Maka."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-wrote this one too.  
An author's need to edit past work? Or just an excuse to write more porn?  
...Both, probably.


	20. The Azure Knight

They erupted from the earth like geysers.

Sand went with them up into the air, raining down all around him as he watched the cloaked figures twist in the air like buzzards with broken wings. In his head he counted them; one, two, three. All of them wielding swords made from their own souls, and all of them hungry to claim his own. Just like all the others before them, all the others he had killed when they had tried the same thing. It didn't matter how many there were or how often they came, in the end they would all fall in the same way. So as the Reapers in the sky made their descent back towards him, the protector of Needle Village made his move.

He stood at the ready as the first one came towards him. Like hail the assailant fell, his sword outstretched in an attempt to skewer the defender before he even had a chance to fight back. Instantly the blue haired man side-stepped, letting the Reaper crash back into the sand he had emerged from moments before. Without any hesitation he took the opportunity to get rid of his enemy, bringing a hammering fist into the downed Reaper's skull. The force alone was enough to send the ground rippling around them, but it was the black lightning from the azure man's hand that finally cracked the assailant's head open.

Blood splattered across the sand, painting it red as black figures blocked out the sun from above. With no time to stay still, the lone fighter immediately broke away. Just in time to dodge another Reaper as it slammed into the ground where he had been standing, the azure man shielded his eyes from the resulting debris as the sound of another crash could be heard somewhere in the distance. He stayed still as the dust settled, waiting for an opportunity to catch a glimpse of whoever was trying to kill him. When he finally got the chance, it didn't surprise him when he found the remaining Reapers crouched on the ground. Their curved weapons held tightly in their hands, they resembled animals with their sharp teeth and hungry eyes. Just another pair of mongrel mutts that needed to be put down.

"Azure Knight," one of them growled, baring his teeth. "Under orders of The Grim, we've come to collect your dues."

Cocking his head to the side, the man sneered. "There's two of you and only one of me. Let's see if that's enough to take down Black of the Star clan."

In a split second they were gone, and again the battle erupted into maneuvers that were too fast for the eye to see. Black, with his training as an assassin, followed the Reaper's movements through sense alone. And with his eyes closed, it took little effort on his part to discover where exactly they would appear next. Within a moment's notice he had already spun around, his lips cracked wide into a grin at the shocked expression of his would-be killer's face as the two locked eyes in halted motion. For a second nothing happened, but the peace soon gave way to gurgled screams.

His fist in the cloaked Reaper's stomach, Black roared with adrenaline as he tossed the battered intruder half way across the field. Blood flowed down his arm from the wound he had inflicted, dripping onto the ground as he tossed his head from side to side in an attempt to figure out where the other Reaper had gone to. Not able to sense exactly where he had gone to, the Azure Knight spat at the ground. Were The Grim's strongest really so pathetic that they'd run away from a Grigori? And if they were, what had caused his fellow clansmen to succumb to such weak creatures in the first place?

The thought angered him, so much so in fact that his sense became dulled. Lost in blood boiling contemplation, Black didn't notice as the third Reaper rippled out from the shadows like a phantom. Though the sun was blaring and darkness was almost nonexistent, his shadow provided just enough cover for the assailant to launch a surprise attack. And it wasn't until the Reaper already had his sword plunged into the young man's back that the Grigori took notice, but by then it was already too late. Like a knife through butter, darkened steel cut through Black's insides, earning from him a blood curdling scream.

"This is what happens when you cross The Grim!" the Reaper barked, sticking his blade further and further inside his target.

Fighting back the urge to pass out as the feeling quickly swept over him, Black looked down at the weapon as it stuck out from the bottom right of his torso. Though it continued to press forward and nick at his tissues as it went through, he found that he was at least still able to breathe. For him, that was all he needed. The Reaper watched, stunned, as his prey quickly thrust himself forward. The blade slid out from him, catching muscle and blood as it went but ultimately not dealing a fatal blow. Eyes wide, the assailant was helpless in the face of Black turning around; the man's fist mere inches from his head.

"And _this _is what happens when you cross the Azure Knight!" he bellowed, throwing all he had into the jab as it connected.

Black lightning arced out from all directions, lighting up the sky so much that it looked as though another sun had appeared in the desert. Unable to react or even to blink, the Reaper was forced to watch his death sentence be dealt right of him as his face quickly evaporated from the force of the explosion. The assailant was erased from existence itself, save for his scream as it echoed throughout the blinding white sands. Black stood still, locked in place with his arm outstretched, standing over the place where his opponent had once been. His very essence spilled out onto the floor, staining the area around him scarlet as he tried to remain conscious. Though he could still breathe, at this point in time that hardly made a difference. He had strained himself, and the blood loss was getting worse with each passing second.

"Motherfuckers..." he mumbled to himself, clutching his head as the dizziness started to set in.

_"What's the matter, Grigori? Where's that cockiness The Grim despises you so much for?"_

Black's eyes widened, immediately throwing his head to the side to find another Reaper. A gaping hole in his stomach, he recognized him as the one from before. The one he had tossed aside, almost _assured _that he was dead. But like a horrid memory, the assailant had returned. And in both his hands were dual swords, one of which looked all too familiar. Didn't the first Reaper have one just like it?

His newest opponent swiped the air with his blades. "You shouldn't have left my partner's soul out. And you should've made sure I was dead."

"How can you be standing...!" Black gaped, wincing as each breath felt like knives stabbing him. "I finished you off, I know I did!"

"As long as there's one around to feed on, soul eaters like me can't die. And their weapons become an added bonus."

The Azure Knight ground his teeth. "So you devoured your own partner's soul...? You son of a bitch...!"

"I'll be taking your soul now, Black of the Star clan." The Reaper droned, preparing to strike.

With both time and options disappearing right before his eyes as his opponent kicked off into a sprint, Black knew there was only one chance left for his survival. In desperation he threw himself on his knees, cradling his wound as the Reaper hurtled towards him. They locked eyes for a fraction of a second, the Grigori muttering something under his breath as the shadows beneath him started to morph and twist into bizarre shapes along the ground. And as the running man's eyes widened at the realization of what was happening, Black confirmed his fears by soundly disappearing into the ground.

A shadow still there despite his body being nowhere in sight, the assailant immediately stopped his advance and even took a few steps backward. Something was very wrong; how could a Grigori manipulate darkness like that? Only Reapers were supposed to be able to use the shadows for their benefit, so why then could this otherwise ordinary human disappear into his own? Were the Grigories stronger than they had anticipated? The thought sent his mind racing. He had to report this to Lord Grim as soon as possible, before his master sent anyone else to their premature graves-!

_"Didn't think I could do this, did you?" _A voice rattled him from behind, its owner's breath trailing down the back of his neck. "_Are you afraid?"_

The Reaper's head snapped to the side, the image of Black standing behind him catching the corner of his eye. In utter horror, the assailant realized that the tables had turned against him. In the Azure Knight's hands were two solid swords of black, though steel was not the right word to describe them. Their form was that of darkness itself; nothing more than a complete absence of all heat and color, whose presence seemed to suck the very life right out of him. In his head, the Reaper knew exactly what they were. But as his soon-to-be killer hovered over him, he just couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

"How are you doing this...?" was all he could muster, eyes wide as the swords were plunged into his back.

Black meanwhile stared coldly at his prey, watching as his weapons did their grisly work. "I'll be sure to see you in hell."

From his opponent's wound, an inky blackness poured forth instead of the usual red. And instead of dropping to the ground like water, it worked its way towards the sky like smoke from burning oil. The Grigori watched in deathly stoicism as the body before him started to evaporate ever quickly; first his stomach, then his torso. Finally, as his blades of shadow finished turning the Reaper into nothingness, all that remained was the floating remains of a soul that looked nothing like an average humans. It was cracked and pale, surrounded by a fire that burned Black's skin as he tried to pick it up.

Perhaps if he tried to eat it, he'd heal himself?

The thought was morbid, but anything sounded good to him at the moment. The blades in his hands quickly began to shrink and recede into his palms, taking with them all of his energy as they left. When they disappeared altogether, the Azure Knight had nothing left to keep him on his feet. The wound in his side still wide and bleeding, he fell to the ground with a loud thud as the sun started to set slightly in the distance. It never crossed his mind that he might die in the middle of the desert, but that possibility seemed very real to him as he realized his only company was the decapitated body of a Reaper.

So for the next half hour or so, the only thing he could do was think as he lay there all by his lonesome. About how on earth he'd gotten himself into this position in the first place, though it was hardly his fault to begin with. _The Azure Knight._ The thought made him chuckle; his was a clan of assassins, the hell kind of name was the Azure Knight? The only reason he'd even stuck with that persona was because that's how The Grim knew him, so the name carried some prestige with it. Not that he particularly cared what the bastard thought of him personally, in fact if he ever saw him he'd rip the man's throat out himself.

It was his fault Needle Village was in the predicament it was. His own clansmen herded like cattle, and used for the Reaper's benefit. It had been like that for years, though it was only lately that things had taken a turn for the worse. People killed outright for no real reason at all, simply because the Reaper in charge of their village felt like exacting some form of random punishment. Not because they broke the law or even because they thought they were dangerous. It was simply because they were Grigories, and Grigories needed to be taught their place. The idea sickened him, and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He sucked in air. That wound was starting to fester, and rolling around in the sand wasn't doing him any favors. Black tried to squirm and make it to his feet, knowing that if he didn't he'd die, but there just wasn't any strength left in him. The Azure Knight fell back to the ground, convinced that he only had maybe another hour or two. And for the few minutes that followed, he wallowed in his own misery as the sun started to recede past the far off mountains in the distance. Focused on his own misfortune, he didn't notice as a familiar face approached him from behind, a blonde woman faithfully by his side.

"Well, you certainly did a number on yourself this time." the grey haired man chastised, adjusting his thick pair of glasses.

Black's ears perked up, a thankful grin spread wide across his face as he realized who it was. "What's up, Doc?"

"It's Professor, and you know it." the scientist deadpanned, motioning for his assistant to grab the first aid.

"Right, right. _Professor Stein_." Black corrected himself, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Help me out?"

The blonde woman smiled as she knelt next to him. "You'll be up and about in no time at all!"

"Don't coddle him too much, Marie. The man needs to realize his limitations already."

Simply rolling his eyes, Black turned on his back to allow Stein's assistant to dress his wounds. He yelped when she poured some liquid in the open gash, probably alcohol, what with how much it burned. Marie of course giggled, well aware that this man who claimed to be Needle Village's protector was really just a big baby deep down. And as she continued to fix him up as he whined about the pain, Professor Stein gave a sparing glance to his young pupil's handy work. The headless body of a black-cloaked Reaper caught his immediate attention, though it was the scorch marks on the ground that troubled him.

"I told you not to manipulate the shadows." he muttered tiredly, shaking his head at Black's narrowed eyes.

The young Grigori said nothing in return, knowing already why he was getting a lecture. The way things were, his body couldn't handle it. He was still human, no matter how hard he tried not to be, and without a Reaper body the darkness would eventually consume him if he used it too much. Though that didn't mean he couldn't try to make himself stronger; for the next time, when the Reapers can for him and his village, he'd be ready. Under the professor's guidance, his powers and resonance would be continually pushed until they hit their limit and break it altogether. He'd be the strongest Grigori, in the desert-!

"Ow!" Black yelped, wincing in pain as Marie tightened his bandages. "Son of a bitch, that hurts!"

The professor's assistant merely flattened her gaze. "The Azure Knight, huh? You've got a long way to go, mister."

Stein chuckled, taking amusement from Marie putting the little fool back in his place. And though he wanted to continue his lesson, he knew that Black probably wouldn't listen to him anyway. Besides, it was getting dark and the desert was a cold place to be in at night. So for the time being he held his tongue and watched his assistant and pupil go back and forth in conversation, though it was mostly just Marie telling him to take better care of himself. It was amazing how a blathering idiot like him could be so easily swayed by soft words and a pretty face, even if she was twice his age.

The gray haired man removed a loose cigarette from his coat pocket and put it to his mouth. A lighter followed, accompanied by puffs of smoke as he stared off into the night sky. Almost completely dark, only the tail end of the sun could be seen as the moon rose up to take its place. Such beauty in the desert, it was both shameful and ironic how such pleasant ground could be stained with innocent blood. Whether it be Reaper or Grigori, it didn't matter to Stein. There was no black and white in this feud between the guardians of life and death, only shades of grey that both sides danced along frequently.

His only hope was that things wouldn't evolve into total war between them.

Because if it ever came down to that, Stein knew that the Grigories would be the first ones to go.


	21. The Demonstration

Her eyes creaked open yet again to find the blank ceiling staring back at her, only this time she didn't close them. Third time was the charm, or in this case the last straw.

She couldn't sleep. Maka didn't know specifically why, although she had a pretty good idea. In any case, it's not like Soul was still awake to talk with her about it. He was out like a light right next to her, his face half-buried in the pillow as he lie in the opposite direction. Maka smiled to herself as she noticed that it was the exact same position he'd assumed after another night of...well, the usual. Jaw still slack and snoring, the Reaper had been soundly put to bed by their late night shenanigans. She slowly and quietly got up from bed so as to not wake him, but not before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Soul squirmed at her touch and mumbled something incoherent, causing Maka to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle. She scanned the floor, searching for the clothes that had been tossed aside earlier in the evening. Eventually she found her underwear, though everything else was lost in the darkness of the room. Maka huffed as she rubbed her tired eyes, finding it easier to simply throw on what little clothing she had at the moment and top it off with a night gown. It's not like anyone was there to see her, and even if they were they'd still be asleep at three o'clock in the morning...or night...or, whatever.

No, she simply made her way down the hall, towards the kitchen to find a glass of water. She wasn't particularly thirsty, but she hoped it'd take her mind off the troubling thoughts from her head; Tsubaki's little lesson earlier had stirred up all kinds of things in that distracted head of hers...Actually, now that she thought about it, wasn't it Jacqueline's idea? Yes, now she remembered. Stumbling though the dark and bumping into things had apparently kick started her brain. Jacqueline was the one who tried explaining what made Grigori souls so special. And instead of boring her with words, the soul collector had enlisted the help of Enrique. Then...things took a turn for the bizarre. More so then usual, anyway.

"Well, at least Blair would make a decent guard animal..." Maka groaned, rubbing the knee she'd bumped against the wall. "...She's certainly big enough, anyway."

Though the thought was hardly comforting. Maka couldn't stop herself from thinking she was..._different, _like her cabby friend. Which, as she finally made her way to the kitchen and got herself a much needed drink, she couldn't really deny. They were the same, bound by their souls with the only real difference between them being...what exactly did Harvar call it? Their Resonance? Soul had told her something like that before, though with all the excitement in the past month or so she'd forgotten most of what he'd told her. Not that he was very specific; not in the same way Jacqueline and Harvar were. And as Maka began to recall their meeting that had taken place earlier, she found herself sucking down water to keep herself occupied. Maybe in order to keep from becoming too distressed with the thought of being so eccentric as well, or perhaps deep down she was simply afraid of not knowing just what exactly _she _was capable of herself.

* * *

_"A Grigori soul is sort of like a conduit. It transfers power between its owner and whatever else that person is compatible with..."_

_Maka sat firmly on a swatch of grass, a little bundle of fur perched contently on her lap. Blair the cat licked her paw absently as her master listened intently to Jacqueline, taking note of everything the soul collector told her. Harvar stood obediently next to his partner as Tsubaki sat on her knees behind Maka, listening enthusiastically to the overview of Girogries. Enrique served as guinea pig for the evening's lesson, with Soul standing far off to the side as he met the intrigued gazes of other Reapers. The group drew a lot of attention in the green park they found themselves in, and he was their security. It was a position he didn't take lightly, as he'd scowl at anyone that looked in their direction for too long. All who received it immediately turned away, not wanting to incur the wrath of the White Haired Reaper.  
_

_Harvar gripped Enrique by the shoulder and continued the explanation. "...This process is called Resonance, though I'm sure the two of you already knew this."_

_The two Grigories in the group looked at each other and nodded. Maka's heart was beating faster than normal. She was excited to finally be getting some answers, though Jackie and Harvar assured her that they were no experts on the subject. It was something, at least. And as Maka turned around to sneak a peek at Soul as he scanned the area, her face beamed with excitement when his eyes met hers. He gave a wary smile, but turned from her without a word. She found his reaction odd, though simply chalked it up to him being busy at the moment.  
_

_Enrique squirmed, clearly not comfortable being the center of attention, but went through with Harvar's request to demonstrate anyway. He scratched his head, making his way awkwardly towards Maka with his hand held out. She at first though it was meant for her, but was proven wrong when he bent over to pick up the little fluff ball in her lap. Blair yawned as the strange man took her way, leaving her owner confused. _

_"Well, I guess nobody knows this besides Tsubaki..." Enrique coughed, petting the cat held gently in his arms. "...But, my Resonance is with animals. Which is why I'm a cabby by trade."_

_The Night Stalker nodded. "There's no one that can push his horses faster than Enrique, which is why Lord Grim personally requested that he be the one to drive us here."_

_"I don't **push **my horses," _ _he corrected her, somewhat defensive. "A_ _ll I do is ask them to pick up the pace, a little. I just promise them more food, mostly."  
_

_Maka cocked her head to the side. "So your resonance let's you talk to animals? Can you understand them, too?"_

_Enrique smiled knowingly, as if he had expected that kind question. Without missing a beat he lifted Blair up to his face and muttered something in the cat's tiny little ears. Maka watched, dumbstruck, as her pet started to meow as if carrying on a conversation with him. Soul raised a brow at the display, but didn't seem nearly as taken aback. They both stared for a good few minutes as Enrique and Blair went back and forth, seeming to have settled on a topic that let the cabby more than a little interested. After some more conversation, Enrique's eyes widened and a devious look struck across the red head's face._

_"Wow, I didn't think it would happen so fast..." he snickered, shooting a glance Soul's way. The latter's eyes narrowed._

_"...The hell's that supposed to mean? What were you two going on about?" the Reaper asked warily, convinced it wasn't anything good._

_"Oh, nothing!" the cabby laughed, causing Soul to become even more suspicious. "Blair just told me she wishes you'd keep it down at night. She can't sleep."_

_Immediately all eyes turned to Soul, all except for Maka's of course. She was too busy looking away far, far away, seriously contemplating letting a Reaper eat her soul just so she wouldn't have to deal with such embarrassment. Meanwhile, Soul stood with his arms crossed and teeth bore into a nasty scowl, one that could kill if looked at for too long. Tsubaki and Jacqueline looked at the white Reaper, and then to one another; They didn't know **exactly** what was going on, but had a pretty good idea, nonetheless. Neither woman said a word, however. Not in the face of such a menacing aura from Soul's part._

_He was going to skin that cat when they got home. **"Just get on with the demonstration, goddammit!"**_

_Jacqueline and Harvar jumped, knowing that tone all too well. They'd heard it once before, back when Soul had nearly pummeled Harvar half to death all those years ago. It was enough for them to drop the perverted thoughts running through their mind altogether and immediately smack Enrique across the back of the head, who was still getting a week's worth of chuckles in._

_"...Yes well, Resonance works both ways..." Jackie cleared her throat. "...Not only does it benefit the user, but the source of power as well."_

_Harvar motioned for their guinea pig to get ready, which he did albeit it with a few continued snickers. "In Blair's case, she can feed off Enrique's soul energy to get stronger."_

_Although still a little preoccupied at the moment, Maka was rattled to her senses by Tsubaki as she poked her on the shoulder. The Night Stalker silently told her to pay attention, putting a finger to her lips in order to tell her to remain quiet. She obeyed, not used to her friend being as enthusiastic as she was about this. It must have been very important, as even Soul had come closer to observe what was about to happen. _

_And sure enough, as she and others watched Enrique and Blair go to work, Maka's eyes widened in awe. The man had muttered something in her cat's ear as he put her on the ground, the latter not running away at all or even moving to stretch. In fact, Blair waited patiently as Enrique knelt down next to her and put his hand on her head as if to scratch it. But instead of doing that, the cabby simply closed his eyes as his partner did the same. Silently they stayed like that, neither so much as breathing as Maka and the other spectators watched with their collective breaths held. Then, after a few seconds, something...changed._

_Blair grew. Actually, that wasn't the right word to describe it. Transformed would be the better description; she looked nothing like the little fluff ball Maka had picked up all those weeks ago at the inn. Her paws had become as large as Soul's hands, with her body being about half as large as one of Enrique's horses. Those tiny eyes of hers had become massive, and Maka choked back in surprise at how even her purrs had changed. No longer was it a soft rumble as she vividly remembered it, instead being a deep, beastly growl that reminded her of a lion. In fact, if she didn't know any better, Maka would swear the cat was now a puma._

_"This is our true power, Maka." Enrique smiled, running his hand through the newly grown Blair. "We make everything we touch stronger."_

_Maka swallowed her tongue; is this what she was capable of? Could she turn her own cat into a ferocious creature like that? Why would she even **want **to? Suddenly she found herself shrinking in place, the sudden discovery of her own potential weighing in on her like a ton of bricks. Thankfully, Soul and Tsubaki were there to make sure that she wouldn't lose it. Her bodyguard was already taking a knee, his hand on her shoulder as Tsubaki took the other. They both squeezed tight, smiles painted on their faces as if they already knew what she was worrying about. She remained steady thanks to their help, finding it within herself to catch another glimpse of Blair as her pet cat stared right at her. The two stared at each other for a moment, with her pet having the slightest glint in her eyes as if to silently say that she was there for her too._

_Harvar carried on, though much more stoically than before. "A Grigori's abilities changes from person to person. No two living people have the same powers at any given time."_

_"And because of their special properties, and the fact that they're still technically human, The Grim considers Grigories to be our exact opposites." Jacqueline added._

_"...Our souls share life, while a Reaper's takes it." Enrique finished for them. "We're kinda like the emissaries of life, while The Grim controls death."_

_Life and death. Two things Maka rarely thought about, though now it seemed like the concepts were being forced down her throat. She now understood why Soul had said Grigori souls were such a commodity; people would kill to have more power, literally. And as she gave the man a weary glance, Maka tried to find that usual comfort she felt whenever his blood red eyes locked on to hers. It was there, but only for a moment. _

_It quickly gave way to a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, one that came about as her eyes fell to the sharp teeth that lined his usually jagged face._

_He said that he loved her. But...was that only because of her soul?_

* * *

And there Maka found herself; standing in a kitchen barely clothed, with a glass of water in one hand and her head in the other.

She knew that it was only her imagination. It wasn't in her to be so grotesquely stupid as to believe that Soul would put on a front to eat her soul or anything; partly because she knew he really did love her, and partly because he wasn't smart enough to come up with a plan like that. But that was only a small part of why she was upset. The rest came from her not knowing how to handle the thought of being different_._ This wasn't like her growing up and the other kids making fun of her for being a nerd; no, this was about her questioning whether or not she should even be considered _human._

Which she was, of course. Jacqueline had said it herself even. But even knowing that, Maka couldn't shake the image of Enrique and Blair doing something so incredible. And the gall they had to act as if it was all so natural! If only she could accept something like that so openly, though Maka knew it would take her quite a while to get used to it. If she ever did at all...

"...You worry too much." an all too familiar voice crept up from behind her, practically making the woman jump out of her skin.

A pair of arms suddenly snaked around her waist, with hot breath soon following as Soul's face became buried in the curve of her neck. Of course she jumped at first, but quickly Maka melted into the Reaper's hold as his grip on her quickly tightened. It had been like that last week too, when she lost all feeling in her knees and let him take her from behind for the first time. Not surprisingly, Soul found that his touch still worked like a charm; he snickered at the feeling of her skin erupt into goosebumps, and the way her hand trailed upwards to grasp the hair on the back of his head.

"Thank god Enrique took the cat for tonight." he said absently. "Otherwise she would've had _another _story to share."

Maka sighed. "You do realize that they're probably up late, right? I think we should be worried about what she's telling him _right now._"

Soul's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. He simply groaned as his head became limp, resting against the woman in his arms as he was still practically half asleep. She did the same and together they supported each other, standing in the same spot for some reason as time ticked by slowly. Awkward silence fell between them, with Maka not knowing what else to do or say. Was she supposed to come up with an excuse for why she was up so late? It didn't sound like it, not with the way he knew she was worrying about something.

"If you're so concerned about being different, then just think of it this way..." he mumbled, eyes completely shut. "...If it weren't for that, we wouldn't be together right now."

"But Soul, according to Jacqueline we're opposites!" Maka blurted out, both her and Soul realizing why she'd been so upset. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

The Reaper sighed as he spun her around, smiling for once instead of grinning. "It means opposites attract, right? I thought you were smarter than that."

Maka narrowed her eyes, but allowed herself to be swept up in his arms, anyway. "Don't tempt me, Soul. I swear I'll pull a book from somewhere."

"All I'm saying is...don't think this changes anything. In case you haven't noticed, none of our friends are exactly what you'd call _normal."_

He chuckled when he could feel her start to relax, knowing that the worst had already passed. Maka wasn't one to dwell on things for too long; she'd get upset for a while, get over it, then find something else a few days later and repeat the process. But never would she allow herself to be drug too far down into doubt or worry, and even if she did then he'd be there to help bring her back out of it. That was his job now, and as Maka let her head rest against his bare chest Soul knew that he'd done it right this time. Now all he had to do was make sure to keep making her happy, though that was easier said than done.

He was up to the challenge however; in the long run, she was all he really had anyway.


	22. The Halloween Ball (Omake)

He could swallow his urges for the night and go to the dam ball for Halloween, if only because she was pretty convincing while in a dress.

If it were anyone else, for any other reason, Soul would have spat in their face at the request of actually attending the famed celebration of The Grim's birthday, which for better or worse had evolved over the years into what the humans called All Hallows Eve. The ancient people from centuries long ago used to dress up in the most frightening disguises possible in a futile effort to scare away Reapers on such a day, hoping to survive the night when the _ soul eater's _such as himself would become mad with their thirst for souls. It was a grim celebration of birth and gluttony, though it was fitting for a man who held the title of Grim. Besides, those times had long since past. Soul was part of a dying breed, one that had long since been forgotten in lieu of costumes and merrymaking.

And as the white Reaper sat there in a chair against the wall, staring out into the sea of dancers as the woman of his affection danced with another man, he couldn't decide whether to be sick or angry.

Sick because of the blood-curdling changes that were taking place inside of his body at the moment, like how he wanted to _ chew on something _ like a two year old because his already sharp teeth were getting even sharper. Or the way that his head started to hurt from all of the noise coming from the other party-goers, because his senses had hit a point finer than his fangs. Then again he could very well be pissed off at the moment, seeing as how Maka was in the arms of the _ one _bastard whom he wanted her nowhere near. Kidd's smile was there, almost taunting him, as the two of them glided along the floor to the tune of a well led ballroom waltz.

His stomach growled in agony, empty in more ways than one. Soul berated himself and focused on Maka’s back to keep some wits about him. Her soul was calling for him, but the last thing he was going to do was answer. He leaned back in his chair, legs bouncing up and down with anxiety as he scanned the area for Tsubaki and Enrique. The former should've been there since it was a party for The Grim's inner circle, and Enrique was always tagging along with her in the hopes of not being eaten by anybody. Not that he had much to worry about, since the only person he had to watch out for was...

_ ... _ ** _Him_**_. _

Dammit, he could feel it start up again. A fire burned in his chest like acid after a meal or, in this case, before one. The sensation of hearing people from across the room breathing, even though they were a hundred feet away, sent his head reeling. He gripped his knee, the muscles underneath his fingers tightening on their own in a spasm. It was as if he were getting ready to run, or punch somebody, or both. In the pit of his stomach he felt queasy, a low rumble being the only indication to the people around him that his body was _tearing itself apart_ in hunger again. **_That fucking bastard...! Why did this happen to Reapers like him?_** **_Kidd knew the answer, and he was going to rip it out from him...!_**

...Maka looked amazing that night. He had to focus on that fact. 

For the moment, Soul swallowed his urges. With weary eyes, he watched as Maka graced the dance floor, enthralled by the sight even if she was with another man while doing it. He couldn't do anything about it, though it’s not like he was going to dance, anyway. Waltzing was for the rich and pompous. However, if it were anybody besides Kidd, he could have at least given them a subtle hint to step away from her and find someone else to dance with. Either that or ** _rip out their soul and eat it right in front of them…!_ **

"...Steady, Soul. Steady." he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair as sweat beaded from his forehead.

How long had they been dancing? It seemed like an eternity to him, sitting there in a secluded part of the ballroom with only a few others around him. Exactly how long had he been _ sitting? _Again, he couldn't recall. Maka had been personally invited to attend the Halloween ball a couple days before, and as her bodyguard it was his duty to attend her. For the entirety of the celebration however, it seemed like Soul had constantly been confined to a chair. There was nothing else he could do, not with these goddamn urges pulling at him like a wounded beast-

** _-And that bastard took advantage of that fact! Kidd knew he'd be out for the entire night. He was trying to spite him because of it! Why else would he only invite Maka and not him? What else could it be? Eyes lit up in bloody fire as he bore holes in The Grim's back, taking sick pleasure in the image running through his mind of beating the man half to death. It'd be fitting to die on the same day he was born…!_ **

...But Maka was there with him. She wouldn’t want that.

Kidd twirled with her in place as others passed them by. She seemed to stop in the perfect place directly opposite of Soul, momentarily taking his mind off the blood lust that started to mount up uncontrollably within him. Her eyes are what did it; Those green, emerald pools that always quelled whatever ill thought plagued him. She smiled faintly at him, both of them frozen in a moment of time as he looked her over. The viridian dress that Tsubaki had given her shone under the light of the numerous chandeliers, bringing out those golden locks of hers that remained uncharacteristically loose for the occasion.

Just as quickly as she stopped, the two dancers picked right back up, leaving Soul there to again wallow in the bitter cloud that hung over him. He watched the woman of his affection again disappear into the crowds. A spark ignited dying embers, and again a wildfire burned. **_Maka was his. He was her bodyguard! Son of a bitch! Kidd was going to die tonight_**_. _**_The bastard's empty soul was his._** **_Everyone's was! THEY ALL WERE GOING TO-!_**

**_-No_**_!_ **No**, **no**, no...no. He couldn't lose it like this. He refused to become a monster again. Not in front of Maka. He wouldn’t put her through that, or even Tsubaki and Enrique, wherever they were. Soul swallowed the lump in his throat and dabbed the sweat from his brow with an already soaked sleeve, betting everything he had on that stubborn will that had gotten him through all the Halloweens before. Then again...he didn't have **two ****_delicious _****Grigori souls ripe for the picking**...dammit! 

Focus, Soul! Was he going to break down like the other soul eaters? Was he going to give in and settle for turning into a gluttonous bastard like Giriko? The thought of turning into a freak like him was disgusting enough to make Soul snap out of it momentarily, letting the Reaper collect his thoughts and again take a deep breath. He needed something to take his mind off all this. Whatever it was, he didn’t know, but he needed it.

"...Hey, Soul? Have you seen Tsubaki?" a familiar voice suddenly chirped next to him, making the Reaper cringe immediately. "Hey, where's Maka...?"

He should have never said anything. Before he even turned around, Soul knew that it was Enrique. Not by the sound of his voice, even though he'd heard it countless times before. No, it was the way he could _ smell _ his soul from a mile away as it reeked an odorous stench that filled the entire room. He could _ hear _ the cabby's heart beating in steady rhythm, like a metronome to the orchestral band that played as people danced to their infectious melodies. And worst of all, by some sickening degree of heightened senses, he could already _ taste _the man’s sweet soul. The phantom touch of a new morsel devoured his his teeth, it lingered on the Reaper’s lips….

"Soul, you don't look so good. Did you and Maka get into a fight or something?" Enrique asked earnestly, practically sticking his face in Soul's.

Meanwhile, the Reaper looked back at him. His mouth was agape, letting the air whistle between his fangs. "Enrique. Please, just go..."

To his utter dismay, the man wouldn't budge. “No way, Soul! First Tsubaki ditches me, now you? Forget it, I'm staying right here-!"

"-** _Enrique if you don’t leave right now I’m gonna pin you to the ground and rip out your FUCKING JUGULAR!"_ **

It pained Soul to do it. Enrique was a blast to be around, but this was for his own good. The driver immediately jumped back, sparing Soul only a passing glance as he scurried away into the crowds of Reapers where he had a much better chance of not being eaten. Meanwhile, Soul rubbed his face, praying that nobody else heard his little outburst and that the music had covered up most of it. To his relief, no one heard anything, but the damage had already been done. His blood was boiling like a pan left on the stove for too long; The heat had been taken off him, but still it lingered.

What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't stay like this forever, stuck in his chair while Kidd danced the night away with Maka. But that's exactly what he was doing! He wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place, only allowed in the damn ballroom because he was technically still her bodyguard. This must have been planned from the very beginning. Kidd was trying to get him all riled up, make him look like an ass, and probably give him enough reason to get rid of him for good. That was it then...Anything to get rid of him, right? ** _That smug looking, flat faced piece of shit-!_ **

"-I can't leave you alone for ten minutes and you're already picking on Enrique? Learn to control yourself!"

Soul's head immediately shot up, eyes wide at the sight of Maka hovering over him with her hands on her hips. For a moment he was speechless, his mouth parted in that same way when Enrique was talking to him. Only this time, it had more to do with how amazing she looked at the moment and not her soul, although that was also something he increasingly began to notice...Wait a minute, did she say ten minutes?

"Maka?" he managed to sputter, dumbfounded. "I thought you were with Kidd?"

“The dance ended,” Maka replied simply. "He's pretty good, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised."

Soul scowled as he composed himself again. "Please, any idiot can dance. Even I learned before he assigned me to you."

"That's good to know, since I’ve been wanting to dance with you all night!" Maka smiled, already taking up his arm and tugging on him.

She managed to pull the man to his feet. He opened his mouth to protest, but was immediately hushed by Maka's finger as she already started walking towards the floor with him. Soul swallowed his tongue, not at all sure if he could handle being this close to other people, let alone her. The Reaper tossed wary glances to the other dancers as he realized the music was starting to pick back up again, completely unaware that it had even stopped in the first place. Again he found himself asking if it had only been ten minutes; Was he really so out of it that even such a short amount of time seemed to pass by slowly?

Soul couldn't answer that, not when he had much bigger things to worry about. The familiar feeling of Maka's arms tangled within his own sent him crashing back into the present, her bright face capturing his full attention as he realized they were already moving together. He looked over at their hands, finding them laced together as they waltzed, before letting his eyes fall to the floor to watch their feet move together in unison. Soul stared for a second, but quickly had his head pulled up by his partner as she shook her head in disapproval. Apparently, Maka wanted all of the attention on _ her. _

He wanted to be the one to give it to her, but in the end he couldn't. Not tonight. He could barely contain himself. "Maka-"

"-Tsubaki told me everything when she gave me the dress." Maka cut him off, acting rather nonchalantly about it.

"....You knew this whole time?” Soul gaped at the admission “ Wait...what exactly did she tell you ?"

Maka smiled. "Pretty much everything. I was just waiting to see how long it would take you to tell me."

"Well if that’s the case, you should know that us being this close is a bad idea." Soul growled, again looking down at the floor.

Once more, Maka lifted his head up with her fingers. "Didn't I say I wanted to dance with you? I don't care about the risks."

God, she really was an idiot. How could he have fallen for a woman even more stubborn than he was, if that were even possible? Soul gave her a weary glower as she stared back with a sweet smile. There would be no convincing her out of anything, much to his dismay. The best he could hope for was to just give her what she wanted and try his damnedest not break down in front of everybody, though that was easier said than done. Still, Maka had her ways of convincing him, even if she couldn't do it the usual way of kissing him. They were in The Grim's court, and during his birthday no less. The last thing Soul wanted was to incur the wrath of Kidd, which was bound to happen if he found his subordinate locking lips with a-

**-** ** _Grigori_**_. _

Fuck, his blood was pumping fast again. His eyes grew wide and pupils dilated as sweat started to sprout from his pores once again. The hair on his body stood on end. Skin became hard and clammy, to the point where even Maka's gentle touch was enough to cause him pain. Suddenly the music had stopped. Why did it stop? Were they staring at him? Maka already was, so was he doing something wrong? Were they afraid? He hadn't done anything yet, but he **should** . That pain in his stomach wasn't going away, and there were so many **warm bodies** ... **and cold souls**...

"...Soul, look at me." Maka ordered firmly, grabbing his cheeks with a single hand.

He snapped out of it for what felt like the thousandth time that night. "W-what?"

The young woman pursed her lips, snaking her arms through his. "I know what you're thinking."

"About how bad I want you right now?" Soul replied tiredly, not realizing another dance had already started up.

Maka's face immediately turned bright red as she let him take the lead, the latter quickly rolling his eyes as they started to move again. Obviously, he didn't mean it like _ that _, though there was no point in getting upset with her. He enjoyed Maka's expression as the music went by much slower than before, obviously meant for a more intimate dance than the waltz they had just finished. It wasn't until he and Maka had gotten into a rhythm together that it suddenly occurred to him that the two of them shouldn't have been so close; Slow dancing was a far cry from the upbeat tunes she and Kidd had enjoyed before.

But that didn't discourage Soul. Quite the contrary, it only gave him more reason to keep going. She had her arms around him, so tight that it was just barely appropriate for a _ professional _relationship such as theirs. His hands around her waist, the Reaper let his cheek hover next to Maka's as he stared out into the crowds while they danced slowly in place. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the one thing that made his night. Kidd was on the opposite end of the ballroom, surrounded by Liz and Patti, his usual flat stare accompanied by the slightest hint of annoyance. The Grim was pissed.

"You know I'm not going to let you lose control, right?" Maka whispered matter-of-factly into Soul's ear.

"And I'm sure you realize that I'm supposed to be the one protecting _ you? _" he whispered back.

She smiled, sneaking in a peck on the cheek. "I told you I was going to take care of you, too. Remember?"

Behind white locks, the Reaper sighed. "Yeah. I also recall you having a death wish. Guess I’m just too irresistible, huh?"

Maka huffed at the grin that started to spread on Soul’s lips. She quickly put an end to it, however, with a swift stomp of her heel on his foot. In the end, she was the one grinning as he yelped like a school girl. The Reaper scowled menacingly at the tiny woman in his arms, convinced that if he wasn't going to lose it because of her soul, then he'd _ definitely _want to kill her because of just how badly she liked to put him in his place. No one could knock him so hard to the ground like Maka could, and part of him hated her for it. The other part, however, couldn't stop loving her for it.

She wasn't lying when she promised to keep him in line, because by the end of their slow dance together, Soul realized that he hadn't once had the urge to lash. To his surprise he felt...calm. Serene, even. His pulse was back down to its steady pace and his breathing had returned to normal, the only thing remaining being the more obvious changes of sharpened teeth and clammy skin, though Maka was already taking care of the latter. She was so warm that he didn't dare take his arms off of her after the music had stopped, finding comfort in the way she melted through his cold exterior.

"I guess Halloween's almost over. I don't feel it anymore." Soul mumbled, trying to cover up his tracks.

He knew that it was a lie. The night was still young, and nothing had changed other than him being with Maka. All he really needed in the end was her; She kept him calm with just a simple glance, but there was no way he was going to admit that to her. She'd never let him live it down, although from the way her green eyes lit up when he told her he was better, Soul had the distinct feeling that Maka already knew it was all because of her. Thankfully she didn't say anything on the matter and only nodded at his comment. Maka let her hands trail along his freezing arms to warm them, gloved fingers teasing the fabric of his suit.

"Love you," she said innocently. They were one of the few still left on the dance floor.

To Soul, however, the only person that mattered was the one in his arms. “Love you, too.”


	23. The Recital

For the past several weeks, it had played out the same way like a horribly broken record. He would sit down in his private keep, pouring over the notes and intelligence that his minions had gathered for him concerning the situation in Needle Village. Never was it good, and even worse was when Elizabeth and Patti would come scampering to him with the grim news he had become accustomed to hearing. Kidd's usually unfeeling visage always broke down just a little each time the two women informed him that yet another one of his Reapers had succumbed to this blue haired Grigori of the Star Clan.

It pained him knowing that his followers were being killed like animals, but it pained Liz even more knowing that the man was losing what little sleep he already had left. She became distraught whenever it fell to her and her sister to deliver the news to Kidd, even more so when they finally mustered up the courage to actually do it. Even now, as the Thompson sisters stood before their master in his chair, they couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably at just how _tired_ he looked. That powerful, commanding side of The Grim all his followers came to fear and respect...it was nowhere in sight.

"I can't believe this is happening..." Kidd muttered tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "...My soul eaters are dropping like flies, it's unfathomable."

"Mr. Grim! This makes twelve Reapers dead! Maybe we should send over somebody stronger?" Patti piped up with a frown on her face.

Liz immediately shot that idea down. "There is nobody else, sis. Giriko left for his territory, Free's M.I.A, and Eater's busy."

The Grim pulled his head up and stared at the two women, a thoughtful look on his face is if he were considering something Elizabeth had just told him. She in turn stared back at him, cocking her head to the side in confusion as to what the distressed man was playing at. Patti looked back and forth between them, simply scratching her head when Kidd got up from his chair and made his towards the book shelves behind him. Both Thompson sisters glowered when they realized he was resorting to another one of his compulsive fits; a few of the novels were out of place, throwing the symmetry completely off.

"Send in Eater." he said without looking up from his obsessive task, his voice calm for the first time in days.

Patti immediately popped to attention with a smile on her face, giving a messy salute before pivoting to turn around. Her sister however stopped her before she could start off for the door, the older sister's expression caught somewhere between shock and anger. Liz bore holes into The Grim's back, the latter not even realizing it as he continued to fix the slightly askew books on the shelf. She was not one to be ignored, instead making her presence known with each heavy stomp of her foot as she made her way towards him. Kidd turned around, though only after he felt her breathing down his neck.

"What the hell are you thinking, Kidd? You'll be leaving Maka completely exposed!" she hissed, her usual aloofness nowhere to be seen.

The Grim tossed her a glance over his shoulder. "Then we'll just have to put my plan into motion earlier, it works out all the same."

"You _idiot!_" Liz berated him, causing Kidd's eyes to widen in surprise. "Now's not the time to be thinking about that!"

"I won't be talked to in such a way, _Elizabeth._" Lord Grim said stiffly, his eyes narrowed as sharp as daggers.

"You're not using your head, Kidd! You're letting your pride and stubbornness get in the way, and people are going to start dying because of it! Including Maka!"

For a moment, the golden eyed man remained stiff in posture as he continued to glare at the woman standing behind him. Slowly but surely however, his resolve quickly wavered as he looked back to the book in his hand. Liz relented and frowned when her master put the tome back in its place and walked away from her without a word, back towards the chair that Patti was still standing next to. He took his seat and leaned his head on a fist, staring at the ground as the woman's words quickly sunk in. After another few tense moments, Kidd finally looked up and sighed to the youngest Thompson sister.

"Patricia, please, go arrange for the three of us to attend the recital tonight. I need to clear my head."

Cracking another misplaced smile, Patti saluted yet again. "Aye aye, captain! Do you want the usual booth?"

'Yes, now please just go." he repeated, shaking his head as the overly enthusiastic subordinate of his left the room.

Liz was left standing there alone with Kidd, not knowing what much else to say as it already seemed like he had learned his lesson. She felt bad for chastising him like his mother however, because for one thing it wasn't even her place to. Kidd was far older, wiser, and more powerful than she was. He'd had hundreds, if not thousands of years under his belt, and yet she was the one telling him off as if he were a child. It confounded her as to why he even listened to her in the first place, how he seemed to put up with her after all these years even when it was well within his right to banish her like he did Eater.

Maybe it was because deep, deep down, Kidd still had some humanity in him. She saw it every once in a while, like whenever she had to break the news to him that another one of his Reapers had been killed. He always took it personally, as though it were his fault, and Liz could swear she saw his eyes waver ever so slightly out of sadness. He may have been The Grim, but that didn't stop her from seeing him in that softer light that very few rarely got to see. Even Patti was hardly around to notice; really, she was the only one Kidd trusted enough to see him like that.

The oldest Thompson made her way behind his chair, worming her face around to stick in his personal space. "I take it you want to cancel that order?"

Kidd's eyes pried themselves from the floor and fixed on her own. "Make sure Patti understands that, the woman can be a bit slow sometimes."

"Don't I know it." Liz smiled, her lips curling even more when she found that amused glint in Kidd's eyes. "So when's the recital?"

"In a few hours, actually. I've wanted to go, but things have gotten so hectic." Lord Grim sighed, still obviously tired.

Liz reached over and grabbed him by the hand. "Well, come on then! I know how much you enjoy the piano!"

For the first time in a long time, she got to see that rare smirk grace Kidd's pleasant face. It was only for a second, and the moment they got up and walked towards the door it was gone, but for Liz it was enough. She could barely contain herself as they made their way down the hallway, arms interlocked like a celebrity with his entourage. It'd been months since Lord Grim had gotten out for a night of entertainment, and the thought of Kidd actually being _happy _for once made Liz giddy with excitement. Patti must have been thrilled too, as the young Reaper was already making her way back towards them.

"Yay! We're actually going out for once!" she sang happily, skipping towards her sister and master.

Kidd rolled his eyes, but took her arm in his all the same. "Yes, yes. Now come! We mustn't be late for the recital!"

Both Thompson sisters leaned back and gave each other a grin over Kidd's shoulders. It was such a special occasion, they weren't going to let anything ruin Lord Grim's special night out.

* * *

"Dammit Maka, why the hell do I have to wear a suit?" Soul growled, tugging at his pinstripe sleeves.

"_Because_, for one thing it's a recital!" Maka huffed, hands in her lap. "Second, I told you to, so that's reason enough!"

Making a sour face, the Reaper leaned over in his chair to look across from where Maka was sitting. To her right sat Jacqueline, while next to her sat Harvar. Finding that the other man was doing the same thing, both gave each other defeated looks as they fell back into their respective chairs. Had they known that their women were planning on dressing them up like dolls, Soul would never have mentioned the dam piano recital in the first place. God forbid he actually try to make a fun evening for the two of them for once; He didn't think Maka would invite their friends along for the occasion.

Formal wear was not his forte either, although his better half certainly cleaned up well. Soul stopped his grumbling for a brief second and let his head fall to the side, letting him sneak a peek at the black formal dress she had gotten for the evening. It dumbfounded him how the hell a beautiful woman like her had been confined to a tiny, dying village for two decades, _let alone_ how she managed to attain the overly modest position of librarian. True, her middle section was kind of...lacking, but he wouldn't have it any other way. It fit Maka, and besides, it's not like he could talk with red eyes and white hair.

He could, however, give her a hard time. Because honestly, that was his job. "I don't see why I should listen to you. I'm your bodyguard, not your slave."

Maka raised a brow in contempt. "No, but I am your girlfriend. And if you don't want a book to your skull, I suggest you keep quiet!"

"Girlfriend?" Soul repeated, being the first time he'd heard her use that word before. "I wouldn't say _girlfriend, _more like..."

_"-More like **what?**_" the blonde ground out, a terrifyingly obvious twitch in her forehead as she stared him down.

"...Nothing." he said meekly, coughing a little to cover up the sudden disappearance of his manhood.

To the Reaper's relief, Maka simply huffed and turned her attention back towards Jacqueline. He sighed, sliding backwards in his seat at having dodged a nearly head-splitting bullet. She meanwhile smiled with her friend, the two women surveying the almost alien atmosphere of higher class Reaper society. All around them, the dark creatures carried on as any upper-crust human would; whispering amongst themselves in fancy clothing, eagerly awaiting their entertainment for the evening. For Maka, who had grown up in a small town, the scene would have been foreign enough without the Reapers.

But that wasn't to say she didn't enjoy it, far from it. The young woman was enthralled by the ritzy sights and air that surrounded her, guilty herself of having fazed into their way of living, if only for one night. She slightly regretted taking advantage of The Grim's generous allowance of money he had given her, knowing full well that it probably wasn't meant to be used for expensive clothes and entrance into the _only _piano recital in all of Death; Reaper musicians were apparently very hard to come by. In any case, what was done was done, and she couldn't change the fact that she and Soul were already there, although now she thought about it, perhaps buying clothes for Jacqueline to come along wasn't the best idea. Then of course Harvar as well, she couldn't expect Jacqueline to be a third wheel...

"You used to be such a reserved girl, I wonder what happened?" Jacqueline teased quietly, referring of course to what was already running through her head.

"I know...I feel kind of bad..." Maka replied, embarrassed. Her head hung low, she gave a timid smile. "Don't suppose I could blame this on Soul...?"

The woman in red giggled knowingly. "Well, I would say that it is partly his fault. The man's a terrible influence on you, if you ask me!"

"...You do realize I can hear _every word that you're saying_...right?" Soul chimed in, leaning over the two of them in his seat.

Maka's expression could not become any flatter, and she simply waived her date off without even looking at him. Again, Soul found himself falling back into his chair, grumbling the entire time under his breath about women being annoying, etc. Harvar, who had long figured out that saying anything would get him nowhere, simply shook his head at his friend's futile efforts to hold onto his dignity. He merely rested his head on a fist as his partner continued her incessant talking with Maka, hoping to some unseen force that the damned recital would start soon so that both women would shut up.

Though, that scenario seemed nowhere in sight. "You know, I've lived here for decades, and I've never _once _been to any sort of performance!"

"Really? I always wished we had something like that back in Loew, but the most we got was Ms. Nygus singing to her potted plants!"

"If only we had that much! Around here, unless you have money, there's hardly any form of culture outside the local bar."

"That sounds so boring...even I've heard the piano once, though it wasn't played well. Some traveling musician..."

Soul, who had long since tuned himself out of the drabble happening next to him, suddenly perked at something Maka had just said. He sat there, head cocked to the side in thought as the two women moved on to another topic, completely focused on the floor as a strange sensation swept over him. Though neither Maka nor Jacqueline noticed it, Harvar certainly did. The soul collector leaned back in his chair, nodding his head in Soul's direction as if to silently ask him what was wrong. Both men locked eyes for a moment, though the white haired of the two only shook his head and went back to staring.

Something was obviously amiss, both to Harvar and Maka when she finally ceased her chatter and casually looked over. There he was, her bodyguard, a finger covering his mouth as he supported his chin with his thumb. Soul looked up at her for a moment, not a hint of worry in his eyes though the man was clearly considering something. She frowned immediately, thinking that she had been a bit too hard on him earlier and it was finally getting to him. On the contrary however, after another few seconds of though, Soul's lips curled into the sharp toothed grin that always made her just a bit more cautious.

"Hey, Jacqueline, Harvar, we'll be back before the show starts." he said smoothly, already getting up from his chair as he held out his hand for Maka to take.

"Wait, where exactly are we going?" she protested, though ended up grabbing on to him anyway. "Soul, the recital's going to start any minute!"

The Reaper pulled Maka up, not the least bit interested. "I just wanna show you something, it won't take long. Probably."

She huffed, but ultimately ended up being tugged along by Soul as he led her away from the row of chairs in a hurry. Left without a single explanation the remaining couple sat there in bewilderment, watching their friends disappear behind a crowd that had just emerged from the lobby. Jacqueline bit her lip, not exactly thrilled by Maka and Soul's sudden disappearance. Harvar however simply put his arm behind the back of her chair and stared up at the overly ornate ceiling, breaking into a rarely seen smile as his partner leaned closer towards him, separated only by an armrest.

"Let them go, I'm sure Eater knows what he's doing." Harvar mused, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

Jacqueline's features flattened. "Yeah, that's kind of what I'm afraid of. I trust Maka...Eater's the one I'm worried about."

"As if you're one to talk?" the man chided, a small gleam in his eyes. "I seem to recall _you_ were the one who wanted help taking off your dress last night-"

"-Harvar!" she squeaked, face redder than her dress. She slapped him across the face, though that didn't stop his incessant chuckling.

Unfazed, the normally stoic man snaked his arm around Jacqueline, the latter still fuming though swept up in her partner's hold nonetheless. She begrudgingly allowed her head to fall against Harvar's, the two of them sitting in silence as the sounds of other people's chatter kept them occupied. Though still upset, Jacqueline found herself hiding a tiny smile from him as time went by. It had more to do with the fact that, despite his cold demeanor and usually statue-like features, Harvar was _still _laughing. It was barely anything, nothing obnoxious, and in all honesty it made her feel so at ease.

Maybe that was why she'd partnered up with him in the first place; He had a brick wall between himself and everyone else, but for her, he was willing to take it down. Even if it was only for a moment.


	24. The Piece

Generally speaking, and though it slightly irked her to admit it, Soul usually ended up getting what he wanted.

All things considered, it would've been surprising if he didn't. Being famous had its obvious benefits, and being _infamous _had even more advantages. And though she never recalled seeing him abuse the perks that being a former monster allowed him, there was no denying that he may have used them once or twice. It was never for his own sake, however; always it was for her, whether it be free food from a local vendor, because the owner was too scared of Soul to even speak, or a useless little knick-knack that caught her eye, to which he took it upon himself to _persuade _the shop keeper into letting her keep it.

She didn't approve of such things, and almost always returned everything as soon as Soul had turned his back. But despite the young woman's usual rigidness, Maka just couldn't bring herself to punish him for it. Sure she would scold him like any sensible girlfriend would but, never could she find it in herself to smack him for doing something that was so sweet in sentiment, despite it being rude in execution.

_Soul, you know it's wrong to take things like that! Why do you keep on doing it? _She would scold him each time, always meaning to find a reason to chop him.

But every time he would just stare back at her, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and give a tiny shrug. _I just thought it'd make you happy._

And any chastising that still lingered on the tip of her tongue would disappear in an instant, replaced instead with a guarded smile that Soul would always tear his eyes away from. He never _meant _for it to sound cute, because the last thing a Reaper like him needed was people thinking he'd gotten soft. Maka of course would respect his need to act tough, and never mention aloud to her friends why she suddenly seemed so happy and why her bodyguard was several paces off in the distance. But deep down she loved him for it, and even deeper down, she knew that he was well aware of this, too.

He was the White Haired Reaper. The bane of souls, both human and Grigori. The once fabled killer that plagued the world for one hundred years, even though he'd been alive for twice that long. All that he was, and all the terrible things that he'd done, it couldn't stop Maka from feeling the way she did about him. He was different, and even if he wasn't, it still wouldn't have mattered. Eater. Soul. Whatever his name was, he guarded her with his life. And not because of what Kidd, The Grim, had told him to do. No, he held her in his heart as she did him, and didn't need the approval of anyone else to justify his actions. Any tender moment a creature like him could muster, any moment of weakness that he dare not show anyone else, he showed to her. Because he could trust her. Because, she knew, he loved her.

All of these thoughts, every single realization that she'd have over the past month or so of their time in Death together, it all came together as she sat there on the piano bench with him. It was the last place she expected to be, then again she hardly expected to be sitting in the audience tonight either. It was solely due to that little fact from before; Soul usually got what he wanted. And what her snowy haired, ruby eyed guard wanted, he made clear on their way across the stage. Hidden behind the large, red velvet curtains that shielded them both from prying eyes, Soul mumbled it under his breath.

_I've never touched a piano before in my life, but something's telling me I should right now._

Before she could protest, before she could ask just what in the world he was talking about to begin with, he'd already grabbed her by the shoulders. Gently the Reaper pushed her to the bench, himself sliding in right next to her as the two shared what little space they had together. Maka's dress draped towards the floor, just inches away from touching wood as she tried to make herself look decent. Being near such an expensive instrument, instinct took over at the sight of grande ebony, and in her head screamed at herself for looking so out of place next to something so rich.

But Soul, she noticed with eager eyes, seemed so...at home. Like this place, this piano, it all fit him in a way she'd never seen before. Maka watched the normally stoic man's face twitch with excitement, as if he was trying his damnedest not to smile like a giddy child. His body melded into perfect playing posture, though for the life of her she couldn't tell if it was on purpose or simply a reaction to being around the haunting instrument standing before him. No matter the reason, it was his suit that really caught her attention; the one _she _had picked out for him. The vertical strips of grey on black. The red shirt underneath that brought out his bloodied eyes. Black shoes. Black cuff links. Maka never noticed it before, but it all stood out so well in her eyes. His ghostly, bleached hair, that's what made it all work.

It was perfect. _He _was perfect.

She sucked in air at the thought, as Soul stared at ivory keys splayed out all in front of him. While he focused on that, she focused on him. His fingers flexed as if preparing to play, though they dared not get any closer than a few inches from his lap. Sharp teeth made themselves known as his jaw became slack, his mouth wide open to suck in air to calm his quickening pulse. Maka's own heart took a leap at the sight of the man's eyes widening in excitement, sweat beading on his forehead as if every fiber of his being were preparing to unleash a string of chords and melodies that he'd never even played before.

He was on the verge of playing something, she could feel it. He wanted to, she could tell, but for some reason just couldn't seem to take the initiative to try. It was agonizing to be teased so cruelly; the thought of Soul playing a piece was high on her mind, and just moments away from happening in real life. He, however, seemed content with merely staring at the mysterious black beast. For what seemed like an eternity he stared, and even longer was it that Maka seemed to wait. Didn't he say that something wanted to make him play? Why was he holding back? Was it because...?

"Do you not want me to hear you?" she finally managed to say a word, though the sentence hung heavy on her lips.

Soul's head immediately snapped from the piano back to her, red eyes still wide. "What are you talking about?"

"I could leave if you want me to, I understand if you're embarrassed." Maka whispered, noticeably hurt.

"Maka, you're an idiot." he breathed, chuckling when her brows furrowed menacingly. "I'm only doing this cuz I thought it'd make you happy."

Razor fangs strung together in a grin that made Maka's heart stop altogether. His smile, the one others failed to notice just how meaningful it could be, was the final straw. She couldn't handle the scene as it played out in front of her, the feeling of being alone behind the stage with Soul and him _almost _playing the haunting melody that was already tugging at her heartstrings. The Reaper stared back at her, his grin waning at the blank expression strewed across of her face. For a moment he thought he had said something wrong, and his brow rose nervously as to how in the world he was going to fix it.

"Look, hey, I didn't mean to call you an idiot." Soul tried to smooth over coolly. "I'm sorry, just please don't-"

He hated her when she did that, when Maka took it upon herself to shut him up instantly as if flipping on a switch. It made him feel weak to always lose his mind in such a way whenever their lips crashed together unexpectedly, eyes wide in surprise even though his lips were already moving along with hers. He felt arms start working their way around his neck, and hands grasping eagerly for the hair on the back of his head. His own fingers trailed down the blonde woman's back, taking great pride in the way her entire body shuddered as he got to touch the soft, creaminess of her exposed skin.

Any number of things could've happened on that bench, Maka thought to herself as she clamored atop Soul's lap. Someone could have walked in and found them in such a precarious position, and immediately think they were two strangers simply looking for a place to get their jollies. In reality, they really _could_ have been having sex; she knew the feeling was mutual. It didn't help that out of sheer force of habit, courtesy of Soul's doing, her hips ground into his ever so slightly as their tongues slid past one another's in the heat of the moment. And, Maka would swear, he would give a tiny groan for more.

But it wasn't to be, or at least, not in the usual sense of making love. The farthest the two of them got was Soul's suit being unbuttoned by hands eager to touch his bare chest, and her dress being lifted up by hands equally eager to feel silky smooth thighs tossed around him. A fire burned in the pit of her stomach, one she knew Soul would be all too eager to douse with his seed. But she wanted it filled by something else, something that only he could give her. Their lips still locked in a passion-filled struggle, Maka broke away and brought her panting breath up close to his ear.

"Tell me you love me." she demanded softly, both hands sifting through white hair.

Soul sighed into her neck and wrapped his arms around her. "Really? We're back to this again?"

Maka pursed her lips, but still found it in her to kiss him behind his ear. "I just wanted to hear you say it, jerk."

"So demanding, like always." he chuckled. Pulling away from the embrace, Soul stared into her eyes. "I love you, Maka...satisfied?"

With a wide smile she nodded, her face quickly buried into the pit of the man's neck as he continued to laugh at her sudden neediness. But Maka didn't care; she was perfectly content with being the butt of his amusement, if only because she'd do anything within reason to see Soul happy as well. And though that sentiment would probably disappear the next time he made in an inappropriate joke or unnecessary comment about her being an idiot, for the time being Maka would just let everything slide. Maybe Soul had planned it that way all along, or maybe fate was just giving him the ultimate free pass again.

In either case, he played his part as gentleman all too nicely. After a long, drawn out embrace, the two brought their heads up and smiled at the situation they found themselves in. Their current conditions less than decent, they took a minute to fix themselves to look halfway presentable. However, Maka couldn't pry her eyes away from him as he buttoned up the shirt that hid his chest from her, much to her dismay. Likewise, Soul wore that signature grin of his as he watched Maka pull her dress down to cover the bare legs that straddled his own. One way or another, he'd see them again later.

But for now, he settled on having Maka around him. Both her hands grasped the back of his hair as their foreheads came together. "Tell me, why the sudden interest in playing?"

"Something you said back there got me thinking," he replied without trouble, surprising himself a little at how open he was about it. "I still don't understand, though."

"What'd I say, exactly?" Maka frowned, trying to think back to the conversation she'd had with Jacqueline. Honestly, she could hardly remember anything...

...Most of what she said was ramble, and from the way Soul shrugged, he must've agreed. "I...I don't know. It's weird. But, it's something I gotta do."

"Well, let's get on with it then! I want to hear you play!" the woman beamed, already pulling away and clamoring to get off of him.

Soul sighed at her eagerness, but had expected no less from her in the first place. He simply gave a tired smile at the image of her sitting faithfully next to him, hands in her lap in anticipation for what was about to come. How a woman could be so contradictory was beyond him, but gave him a good deal of amusement nonetheless; in the time since their seats in the audience until now, she'd gone from demanding bitch, to self-conscious listener, to _seducer, _and finally had settled on a little bit of all three, with giddy school girl thrown in for good measure. God, what had he gotten himself into?

"I told you, I've never done this before." the Reaper cautioned, fingers inching towards the keys warily. "Just, I really want to for some reason."

Maka nodded calmly, though in her chest, her heart was beating a million miles an hour. The sight of Soul taking up posture again, it seemed all so natural and got her riled up to a feverish point. Even though he said he'd never played in his life, it became all too clear to Maka that her bodyguard wasn't telling the truth, or at the very least didn't remember something. How could one man meld into an instrument so fluently without ever having touched it before? Let alone one as rare and difficult to master as a grande piano. And the most damning piece of evidence again his claim, the one that filled her head with doubt...

...Was when he started to play. The very moment his fingers pressed a single key, she knew he'd done this before. Somehow. Sometime, before this.

It started as any piece would; methodical, pleasant. Maka stared, wide eyed, as Soul put together music from what looked like thin air. The surprise on his own face was indescribable, how on earth he could do such a thing without ever having done so before was beyond the both of them to comprehend. Each execution of the note was precise, the chords and crescendos crisp on both their ears as his fingers danced across black and white keys at a pace that seemed slow at first. Baby steps, Maka thought to herself. There was no way he could get any faster than that, and Soul knew that too.

Or at least, she thought he did. The shock in his eyes soon gave way to a hardened gaze, like uncertainty lifted from him and left a huge void for newly found determination to fill in. Quickly feeling comfortable with everything happening, the Reaper took it upon himself to find out exactly what he was capable of. Maka meanwhile sucked in air, her chest aflutter as she watched him hunch over the keys, a devil toothed grin tugging ever slowly at his lips. The music quickly followed its player's sentiment; as the corners of his mouth grew, so too did the speed, tempo, and sheer _chaos _of the piece itself.

No longer did it sound pleasant to the ear, nor did it sound like music at all for that matter. In certain places it seemed to almost stop, only to come back full force with striking speed that only continued to grow in sheer ferocity. Each press of the key was harder, faster, and more precise. A rushing torrent of rising chords quickly followed such hard pressed notes, the result of which was a climb to heaven, or hell, that was terrifying to behold. It was like a demon itself was playing the piano, no longer the Soul she had come to know, but a different man with the same face. Such pure madness in that instrument, and all of it him.

_This _was the kind of music that was trapped in that fair haired head of his. Nothing for the faint of heart or those pompous, arrogant upper class spectators waiting outside, who could probably hear all of his playing through red curtains. Maka couldn't breathe, the air so thick with a haunting miasma of Soul's raw, unbridled talent that she wondered if this was even possible. If he could _really _be this good.

* * *

Along with the rest of the crowd, he sat in the audience.

From his perch atop the others, in an expensive booth with two of his most loyal followers sitting on either side of him, Kidd glared.

At everything and nothing, at empty space before him as those below whispered about their entertainment for the evening. How they wondered if the player had simply forgotten to release the curtains so they could watch him perform, or if he was simply too shy and didn't want to be seen. Meanwhile, The Grim himself simmered in a painful, low burning anger at the knowledge of just _who _was playing that haunting melody that very moment. In all honesty, he didn't know for sure, but had a very good idea. Impatiently, his knee bobbed up and down, and it was Liz who took notice of his unusual tick first.

"Kidd? What is it? Something wrong?" she frowned, pulling at his arm to grab his attention.

"I haven't heard someone play this piece in over two hundred years." he muttered, eyes twisted in realization.

It couldn't have been. No, not here. There would have been no reason for him to attend the recital that evening, especially considering he probably couldn't even afford entry into such a place. But no one else could know this song, it hadn't been played in centuries! It died out with _him! _His duty was to protect Maka though, and the last thing he'd do would be to leave her side. Unless of course, he hadn't...

Kidd surprised his two escorts by jumping to his feet, an uncharacteristically anxious expression tugging at his face. He hung his head over the balcony, looking for someone in particular whom he hoped would still bit sitting in the stands. However, all he found was the opposite. In his sharp gaze and utter dismay, The Grim noticed two empty seats near the front. Fairly inconspicuous to the untrained eye, but for Kidd it was enough. Especially considering that right next to those empty chairs were none other than the soul collectors themselves, Jacqueline and Harvar. He knew the pair hung around Maka.

"Mr. Grim! They're still playing music, don't you wanna sit down and listen?" Patti huffed, watching as Kidd turned around to walk off.

"Dammit, Kidd! Can you at least tell us where you're going for once!" her older sister added, stopping the man dead in his tracks.

The Grim tossed her a raggedy look, one that made his golden eyes seem all the more fierce. "Eater's attending the recital."

And just like that, the Reaper to rule all disappeared behind one of the booth's curtains. Leaving Liz and Patti Thompson to look at each other with worry in their eyes, they didn't need to be told anything to realize just how wrathful their master was at the moment. All they could do was turn their attention back to the people below, and listen in as the audience commented on the terrifying music being played.

* * *

Such thunderous notes could only be held for so long. Soul wasn't human, but no god either.

The blasting of his melody soon waned to a soft pitter-patter, to a level that mere humans like herself could comprehend. The speed was still great but the ferocity was much toned down, and with every passing second of his fingers working their magic, the song itself seemed to die out along with his vigor. She stared with lidded eyes as the Reaper's piece started coming to a ceremonious close, the dramatic music pulling one last, fantastical turn for the powerful before falling into the voids of quiet and soft again. Only this time there was no rebound, and finally, after what seemed like years, Soul finally stopped his playing.

She sat there, listening to him suck in air desperately to quell his aching lungs. Sweat poured from every square inch of his hot, sticky skin, even a few drops making their way down the long locks that loomed over his eyes. Body shaking with each breath he took, his shoulders sunk low as the feeling of his arms became foreign to him. It was a sight that Maka never got to experience; he was tired, vulnerable, and spent. He poured his heart out into something, and gave it his all. She wanted something like that, to give every last ounce of herself to one thing and not care at all about the consequences.

"That." Soul panted, pointing at the piano while giving her the most meaningful stare of his life. "That's the kind of man I am."

Her toes curled at the thought; She wanted it to be him.


	25. The Crescendo

There was no time to say anything.

Part of Maka felt bad for him, as she knew that having played with such dedication took a toll on his body. She could feel it in the way that his body wobbled ever so slightly, muscles twitching and faltering from pure exhaustion at having putting everything he hand into that piano. But the other half of her, the half that was in control at the moment, was in no mood to let him off easy. Not when the blood in her veins boiled with an uncontrollable heat that was only made better by the lifting of her dress, and the feeling of Soul's cold fingers on the inside of her thighs. His touch as all she needed to spread them wide.

He'd filled his music with such passion, now it was her turn.

Such a terrible idea to perch atop the piano that was to be the center point of the evening, but it was one that encouraged her and Soul to do the unthinkable in public. She moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping around a still fully clothed waistline that teased her to no end. A familiar bulge rubbed against the softest parts of her body as she closed her eyes, trying so hard not to lose her mind though it quickly became apparent to Soul that she'd already had. If it weren't for the tongue that eternally mingled with his own, he'd had been grinning from ear to ear at the sight of uptight Maka writhing desperately against his dick.

He managed to pull away for the briefest of seconds to catch his breath, still spent from his performance not even minutes ago. But just as quickly as it came, it went. Out the window, along with his reason as Maka pulled him back in for another bout of intimacy. This time however, she made it all too apparent to him just how _badly _she wanted it. For once, Soul was left speechless as the feeling of teeth against neck made him shudder in surprise. Maka was _biting _him...Maka _never _bit him, that was always his thing. Without fail, she'd always turn to putty whenever he did it to her, but- Godammit, it felt _amazing._

"I want you." she ground out into his ear, pulling handfuls of white hair at the same time.

Soul found himself weak in the knees, and not just from playing. He tried to remain cool. "Be more specific?"

Pulling her head up to meet his, Maka gave the Reaper a look that made him lose every ounce of sanity he had. "_Fuck me."_

His hips met hers. Both of them groaned. An exchange of saliva once more, and there was no more stalling. They needed each other naked, now. Maka took it upon herself to do the work for him, hunching over on the piano to reach down and undo Soul's belt. Next came the button, then the zipper. All of it so fast, but he cursed her when she took her sweet time in _pulling down _the damn zipper. What a rotten little seducer, at least that's what he thought to himself as her knuckles brushed against the hardest part of his entire body at the moment. It was agonizing, the wait. But in the end, it was worth it.

Because by the time she'd gotten to the very end, Maka was done with teasing. She was done with waiting in any form or fashion. The sheer amount of want in her eyes told Soul that he didn't need to waste time taking off the top part of his suit; the bottom was all that mattered. As if to give them what they both wanted, he dropped his underwear, and immediately pressed himself up against this wonderful woman atop the piano. Maka moaned as their lips came together for a final time, finding it in her to bear through just a few more seconds of waiting as the feeling of his lower half rubbed against her.

Then without warning, she felt it. All of the tension that had been in the room, it disappeared with the best of him.

Combined gasps rocked the stage as Soul filled her slowly at first, just gently enough to get her ready for what he knew she _really _was waiting for. He watched with lidded eyes as Maka threw her head back in ecstasy, voice cracking in the way he'd come to expect out of her after so many nights of intimacy together. But this time was different, and he could feel it in the way that she pulled on every last inch of him for leverage. Wet walls hugged him tighter than ever before, and legs that always drove him insane were, at that very moment, running along his ass and back in ways that turned him on like no other.

It encouraged him, pushed and prodded him for more. She was practically _begging _to be satisfied, and it wasn't in him to deny her. With heavy hands he grabbed the piano Maka sat on and drove himself in deep, earning him a heavy moan from the woman whom he worked so smoothly into. It pained him slightly, having to break through such tense muscles, but it was worth it in the end. His own head shot back with a grunt, as Maka quickly sank backwards until she lie flat on the bare instrument beneath her. They remained still for a moment, simply getting used to the feeling.

"Hey, Maka." Soul breathed through a clenched jaw and razor fangs.

For a moment it seemed like she didn't hear him, but finally she spoke up. "What?"

The man hunched over and brought his face within inches of hers. "Tell me that you love me."

"I love you-" Maka started to say, before feeling a sudden, hard shove from below. "Oh god, I love you!"

Soul sneered as she clamored to grab hold of his wrists, his back, _anything_ to keep herself steady from the onslaught of thrusts he started to give her. The entire time, trying so desperately not to cry out despite every fiber of her being telling her to. They were still in public, if they weren't careful, people could still hear them. But such thoughts were the last thing on the pair's mind, and despite their most conscious efforts not to, still they found themselves huffing and groaning at the amazing feeling of one another's softest areas. They'd had a month to get used to each other, though still it felt so new.

Fucking hell, she was so tight. The Reaper's arms tensed as he tried to calm his lower half from getting ahead of him, but Maka wasn't making it any easier on him. He nearly lost it when she squealed as the thrusts became harder, more intense. Her eyes wide open, accepting, as if she wanted to take all of him; soul, body, and mind. He stared into them as he loomed over her, the two of them sucking in air as their lungs became full to bursting from the sounds they made behind the curtains. Once or twice, their legs bumped into the keys and made a few notes, making their sex all the more loud.

"Dammit, Maka." Soul hissed when she started to cry out. Her eyes shut tight, as if focusing on the only thing that mattered at the moment.

He had to shut her up, otherwise they'd both get found out. Immediately his mouth crashed against hers, Maka's passionate noises drowned out and muffled by his throat. Soul quickly felt arms snake their way around his neck, and legs as they tightened around him in encouragement. She finally found it in her to look at him through a lidded stare, and he in turn did the same. The cries against his lips soon started to get more intense as his shoves and thrusts quickly followed, each whine of Maka's making him wish they were alone so that he could hear her make every single one out loud.

But that was part of the fun. The possibility of being discovered, of being walked in on during such a fit of love making; It was a dirty, guilty pleasure. And as their tugs on one another became ever stronger and more frequent, both knew that such a fact was only pushing them towards the finale. Neither Soul nor Maka wanted it to stop however, and after a few seconds of experiencing such _hard _strokes, they both started to pull back. Slowly at first, then quickly to almost nil. It was only temporary. Only enough to give them a moment to breath and drag it out as long as possible, with forever being a good starting point.

"Soul," Maka panted against his lips, her fingers filing through sweaty locks of white. "Please don't leave me."

"The hell, where did that come from?" he rose a brow, sucking in air just as heavily. Maka frowned.

"Please, I just needed to say it now. I need to hear _you _say it now. So...do you promise?"

Shaking his head, the Reaper conceded. "I already said it once before but, I promise."

Maka smiled weakly as she pulled him back down to her, ending the conversation abruptly when their lips came together once more. Space became nonexistent between the two as they held onto each other for dear life, hands not knowing what to do with themselves in the heat of such passion. She gripped his shoulders and traced down to his back, while Soul took to grabbing hold of the thighs that were quickly starting to slink off him from exhaustion. All the while, neither saying anything as their silent embrace spoke enough on its own. They didn't need words anymore to know how the other felt.

Which is why she knew before he even entered her that Soul was ready to go again. His chest swelled, his breath became sharp, and the way he bit her lower lip with those gloriously sharp teeth of his; it all told her the same thing. That he wanted to finish things, to show her exactly how much she meant to him and to silently tell her to stop worrying about everything. And from the way she nodded against his forehead and spread her own legs wide to accept him, Maka made it just as clear to him that she was his for the taking. Anything he had planned, it was more than enough for her.

A tremulous breath was all that could be heard when they picked back up from where they left off. There was no easing in this time; Soul's full size crashed into her from the get-go. His grunt filled her ears as his lower half covered the rest, Maka's huffs sounding like sweet music to the man trying his damnedest to satisfy her. Their faces never left each other, if only for a minute when Soul tucked his head into her neck and bit down on soft, supple skin. But between strokes and moans, Maka pried him off and wrapped her arms around him. The Reaper growled when sharp nails began thoroughly digging in his back.

Even through such thick clothes, pain shot down his spine, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. In fact, he found it to be all the invitation he needed. His hands again grabbing hold of the tight grip her legs had on him, Maka quickly found that Soul wasn't one to just sit back and take punishment. With every ounce of her strength, she tried not to scream when he began to dish it right back; it almost _hurt _how hard he was fucking her now. The speed, the strength, the _length, _it was practically too much to bear through now. She remembered again that he wasn't human. God, he wasn't human.

Maka tossed her head to the side, hoping not to show him just how hard she was struggling with herself. If he knew just how _insane _he was making her feel right now, Soul would never let her live it down. Though unbeknownst to her, he already did. And as the woman tried so desperately muffle her squeals of pleasure, he loomed over her with his devil toothed grin and breathed out a faint chuckle when she finally started to give in. Her body shuddered with each stroke he gave her, and finally he heard those sex crazed noises at the volume they were meant to be heard. She was ready. _He _was ready.

"_Goddammit-!_" he growled out as sweet release hit him like a ton of bricks.

She said nothing. Not like usual, where she'd call out for god or squeal his name in confirmation. Maka remained quiet, save for the passionate cry she gave out to the theater when she came at the same time he did. Soul could tell that she had; her legs constricted to the point where he couldn't even move, and his dick became trapped by walls too tight to pull out from. Again, words had no meaning anymore. He was forced to stand there, trapped by a body that still craved his own, and wait as he finished. Maka squirmed as part of him flowed through her, but ultimately didn't care; she'd been looking forward to it.

And so when the two finally finished their few shared seconds of bliss, they were left there, on the piano, with aching lungs and muscles too tired to even carry them. Their holds on each other quickly waning, both looked into one another's eyes as they tried to catch their collective breaths, though Maka nearly lost hers again when the man she'd shared so much with suddenly became limp. He fell on top of her, his body slumping lifelessly in a way that made the woman quickly worry. She tried to push him to the side in an effort to get up to find out what was wrong, but ultimately couldn't.

"Soul!" she breathed, his face crashed against her chest. "Soul! What's wrong-?"

"-I'm really tired." he said simply. A weary grin pulled at his lips as his body shook from exhaustion.

Maka stared up at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the way Soul sucked in air as if he'd been drowning. Sweat dripped from every inch of him, and it soaked through her dress and into her skin. But all she could do was smile and wrap her arms around his head, face buried in his hair as she combed it the way he liked. Both of them tired, sweaty, and spent, their moment of passion was over.

Now it was time to rest. And, hopefully, leave before anyone knew that they were there.

* * *

Perhaps it was his fault. Perhaps, he underestimated the human psyche.

Maybe he didn't know the whole story, though at such a time and place, it hardly even mattered. Not when such blatant disregard hung heavy in the air, and his own blood boiled with a rage that the world hadn't seen in hundreds of years. If rage filled this fire, then surely he was furious. If not because Eater really had attended what was supposed to be a sophisticated, elegant evening of piano work and listening, then because his original hunch was correct. Though every part of him screamed for it to be not true, fate had apparently sided against him for once. Things had not worked out in his favor.

He stood there, hidden in the shadows of the stage left, a curtain blocking his view of what he knew lay on the other side. Golden eyes shining like oil lamps in the dark, The Grim's senses had told him long ago what he would find hidden behind the grande, red curtain where the piano was to be found, though at the time he didn't want to believe it. Denial however was for the fool hearty, and such evidence was hard to dismiss as circumstantial. The only possible thing to be thankful for was the fact that he hadn't walked back stage as it happened, that he'd stumbled upon them _after _the fact.

Heavy breaths. The stench of sex. _Of sex._

Perhaps it really was his fault, but for the life of him, Kidd didn't care.

There was no patience left in him. No quiet, calm demeanor that the world had known him for. All that remained from the sparsely used emotions that had left him was nothing but poisonous distaste for his subordinate, the kind he'd felt a few times before, but now couldn't keep locked up any longer. Even a god had his limits, and the purveyor of death had met his. No longer was it time to swallow emotions.

It suddenly became very quiet behind that theater when the curtain hiding him was soundly pulled away, a single stroke of his hand hushing the two other people in the room with him. Immediately, his eyes landed on the grande piano, along with a fully dressed Maka staring back at him with a wide, doleful gaze. Lord Grim lingered on the sight for a moment, before turning his attention to the man next to her.

His belt undone. That's all that remained of their little encounter together. Kidd's emotionless face gave his vindication little justice, a feeling of confirmation swelling within his chest that brought a little humanity back to him. Soul meanwhile looked on with that same flattened stare, the two of them exchanging detached glances that hid the fire burning within each other's eyes. Swirling tension filled the room, made no better by the silence that had befallen the three of them at The Grim's dramatic entrance. Maka couldn't help it but to hop off the piano and get behind Soul, the latter standing firmly between her and Kidd.

"Do you realize just how much more difficult you've made my life?" the man in black questioned, his tone surprisingly calm.

Soul said not a word. His only response was to put his arm out next to him, offering Maka a sense of security as he stared down the other man in an effort to defend his territory. She meanwhile peeked over his shoulder, though didn't dare leave the safety of her bodyguard's protection for any reason. The room had become lethal with such bitter feelings, that she found herself shaking in anticipation.

"I've shown you infinite patience, Eater. After all the things that I've done for you, _this _is how you repay me?"

Again, the white Reaper remained silent. Kidd matched the threatened glare he received with a powerful one of his own, not liking at all the way his subordinate wouldn't answer a single one of his questions. The air quickly grew thick with such tension, that for a moment it seemed like one could hardly breathe. Maka was the most obvious affected; her own body gone from shaking to pure trembling in sheer terror. The Grim took notice as he found her quivering form, and immediately his menacing aura seemed to fade, if only for a moment.

"Maka, please leave." he spoke evenly, eyes still focused on Soul. "This is a discussion between Reapers, I'm sure you understand."

Her eyes grew wide. The Grim was giving her a request, a _god. _But, it didn't seem like the time to be following anyone besides Soul at the moment, so what on earth should she do? Her confusion was immediately noticeable, both to Kidd and Soul, and they both pulled their attention away from each other for a moment to see what she decided. In the end however, the woman just couldn't bring herself to leave her spot. She gripped the back of the Reaper's suit and put her forehead to his back, wishing for a moment that none of this was happening. It was her fault! Dammit, why did she have to-!

"-Didn't you hear him? Get out of here." Soul muttered, catching her off guard.

She pulled her face out from his back and stared at the floor. "I don't want to leave you!"

"You're not leaving me." he stated firmly, his voice rumbling in his chest. "Not forever, so just go."

Kidd's eyes narrowed at the display, finding their conversation far past the platonic relationship he'd hoped the two would have. Such a hope seemed so far out of the question now, especially considering that the once-stubborn Ms. Albarn seemed to bend to her bodyguard's request far more quickly than his own. She looked up at Soul, who glanced back at her over his shoulder. They stared at one another for a moment, before Maka finally found the strength to step away from him slowly. It wasn't until about halfway past the stage when she finally turned around and walked off into the shadows.

She was crying. The image played over and over again in Soul's head; she was crying. How he could've let something like this happen, it made every last part of him want to destroy the fucker responsible for this. At such a realization, his eyes turned back to Kidd. The Grim. Lord Grim. Whatever the fuck he was supposed to be called, it didn't matter to Soul anymore. Acidic thoughts burned holes into his mind as he stared into those golden spheres lodged inside Kidd's head. How badly he wanted to rip them out and toss them to the ground. To stomp on them. To make him feel _pain._

"I want you to know," Kidd started, once he was sure Maka had left them. "That I don't blame you entirely. This is partly my fault..."

This _fucker. _Such seething anger that burned red in his eyes, it was a wonder The Grim hadn't even noticed. How _dare _he do this, how _dare_ he not only make her cry, but act as if he wasn't even mad to begin with as well? That unfeeling, cold-hearted bastard. Soul stood there, still as a statue, patiently waiting for Kidd to continue on with whatever it was he was saying. But on the inside, a part of him he hadn't felt in such a long while started creeping up to the surface. Something that he hadn't felt in so long, that it was a wonder he even remembered the feeling at all. Cold, raw, _bitter _emotion.

"...That said, you will no longer be Maka's bodyguard. I'm willing to look the other way, so long as you agree to your new position in Needle Village..."

His fingers curled. His breath became sharp. His body that had once been so tired quickly brimmed with an unknown energy that filled his muscles to the brim with deadly potential. The Grim's words held little meaning to him anymore, Soul's only focus being on that _damn detached voice of his! This_ **_fucking _**_feeling burning inside him, Kidd had no idea. No idea just how **infuriating **his cold tone was! How much he **hated **the way those golden eyes stared at him as if he were **nothing**! That superior, smug, **bastard**! He couldn't hold it in anymore! The thoughts, the feelings, the emotions. It was coming back to him, it was-!_

"...She will be staying with me from now on, so you needn't worry about her safety. I'll be sure to take perfectly good care of-"

Kidd stopped mid-sentence, his eyes wide in surprise for what seemed like the first time in his life. Silenced by the sudden shift of Soul into a position that looked dangerously liked a battle stance, The Grim looked on as his most powerful subordinate did the unthinkable. Finally noticing the bloodlust in the white Reaper's eyes, he was dumbstruck to watch as silver light began glowing from his chest, a trail of the ethereal mist working its way down his outstretched arm. Knowing immediately what it was, Kidd curled a fist in anger as the blood and black figure of a scythe quickly took form in Soul's hand.

Steeped in the darkness of an unlit theater, only red and white stood out against the backdrop of such shadows. Red eyes glowed as did the metal of his scythe, the shirt underneath his pinstripe suit catching what little light there was behind velvet curtains. Ghostly hair matched fangs like a demon, calling cards of a White Haired Reaper known once throughout Loew as a fairy tale. Only now, such a menace to life itself was all the more real once again. His ferocity, his lust to see souls ripped from their bodies like before. It was all put into a glare that The Grim stared into. Once forgotten, now no longer more.

"You _dare _raise your scythe to me, Eater?" he hissed at the Reaper, the calm in his voice discarded to the wind.

No warning came when Soul disappeared in a mist of black, nor was there a sign that Kidd was prepared for his sudden return a second later, not even inches from his person. Lord Grim moved with such fluidity when the scythe came flying towards his face that it seemed like he had expected such an attack all along, his hands coming together at the perfect time to catch Soul's blade between two open palms. The weapon struggled under the grip of such powerful men, both forcing their all into the scythe as they menaced each other with blank faces. Their eyes told the story; like two warring lions, they stared.

After a brief tug-of-war, the pair quickly ended their engagement. Kidd released the onslaught of metal with little effort as Soul jumped back in stride, crouched on the ground as his scythe flirted with the floor beneath him. Such a titanic meeting of two forces did not go without repercussions, as the wood around Kidd had crumbled under the sheer force of his once loyal Reaper's attack. Both rivals gave such insignificant things little notice however, their full attention to how best to rip the other one limb from limb in the most gruesome way possible. Such power between them. Such _darkness._

The Grim's eyes gave way to a stare of death and bitter cold. "Let me show you why **_I'm_** the god all other god's fear!"


	26. The Showdown

When two opposing forces clash, one of two things can occur.

The universe may be inclined to cancel both of them out. The result is a moment of time in which, if one wasn't there to behold it, would have gone completely unnoticed and forgotten in the grand scheme of creation. There is fallout to be sure; Matter and anti-matter meet, bringing together a glimpse of energy so powerful that space itself is distorted. Other times, however, something entirely different can occur. White and Black. Shadow and Light. These things can never meld, only meet each other at a single point where a border thinner than a hair strand can reside. It is at this point where the conceptual and real meet for a fleeting second, a moment in the totality of existence where the laws of the universe can bend. And morph. And change. Into something that is both horrifying and beautiful to behold, a scene that mere mortals could never comprehend unless seen with eyes that can handle it.

Eyes of red, and of gold. And, for the terrified woman standing motionless in a crowd of hysterical Reapers, green.

Peppered with tears and stinging of guilt and dismay, they burned at the scene playing just out of sight. There was nothing she could do to stop it as people all around her swarmed, trying their damnedest to escape rafters and chunks of concrete as they fell from wall and ceiling alike. Like cockroaches, the Reapers were focused only on survival in the hell they found themselves in. Nobody cared when they bumped into her or almost knocked her to the ground in their panic. For Maka, their terrified faces were enough justification to not hold it against them. 

How could she blame them? Why would she be angry at these people for doing what she should've been doing all along? Running. Like a frightened rabbit, she should have been making her escape. Away from the shouts and growls of two forces of nature as they fought for dominance in that tiny theater, a place that had seemed so large in the beginning, but paled in comparison to Soul and Kidd as they fought for dominance over one another. The stage itself couldn't contain them, their all-out war lasting only a second or two behind the velvet curtain before it fell to them as they flew through it.

Right against her cheeks, she had felt the air rush past her. Soft hair, the kind she grabbed handfuls of before, faintly brushed her skin before becoming lost to her once more.

From that point on, Maka was left only to stand there and stare as the most powerful men in Death City killed each other. Their shouts and screams echoed thoug the cavernous theater as Lord Grim's followers cried out in horror. She didn't look behind her and didn't even try to. Frozen in place as the tears continued like waterworks down her face, Maka could only stare out at the piano onstage and internally scream at herself for being so weak. For not having the decency to at least look at Soul as he fought for his life, the pain in his voice enough to make her heart shatter into millions of pieces.

**"I was willing to do anything for you! I was happy to do it! And you _abandoned _me!" **she heard him shout, the sound of a guillotine ringing clear in her ears.** "You're not taking her away too!"**

She couldn't take it. It was inexcusable to leave him alone, to abandon him the way Kidd did. She could not, _would not_, turn her back on the man who promised everything to her, and whom she had promised the same to. Maka bit her tongue and swallowed her tears. Eyes blurry with water, she wiped them the best she could as people continued to bump into her from all sides. In the pit of confusion, she turned around and tried her best to find Soul over the sea of people. Impossible though it seemed, she eventually found them; Maka gaped in horror at the sight of Soul being lifted up by a fingers around his neck.

"I **trusted** you! Dammit Eater, I _**saved**_ **_you_**!_" _The Grim screamed as he shook Soul like a rag doll. Pained seeped through every letter of his words.

_"..._I don't know what you're talking about-!_"_ Soul gurgled back as he tried desperately to breathe. He tried his best to grab Kidd's hand, but to no avail.

Maka covered her mouth when Kidd's scorn overruled his patience, the next thing she saw being her lover's limp body being thrown straight up into the air. The motionless Reaper went up only a few feet before falling back down, though he never made it back to the ground. Before he could, Lord Grim was there to meet him with a sound thrash into his chest with a ringed fist. Above screams of onlookers and the continued background noise of the crowds behind her, the sounds of Soul's heavy wheeze as the air left him was all Maka could hear as he flew backwards, into the solid concrete of a decorated pillar behind him.

His body melded with stone, cracks forming all along the structure as he threw his head back in silent agony. Kidd looked on, still as the rock Soul found himself in, and watched as the White Reaper struggled to find enough strength to move. The creaking of bones and joints popping into place made Maka's stomach churn in pity and disgust, as the sight of her bodyguard breaking loose from his prison became obstructed by people in front of her. She whipped into a panic, unable to see either him or Kidd anymore as her body fell to the mercy of churning crowds that pulled her along like a river current.

In desperation she called out to him, though her voice wouldn't carry far enough. Maka tried again as the Reapers pulled her along farther and farther away, everyone trying their best to flee from a towering white figure when the crack of lightning suddenly silenced them all. The frenzy stopped, dead in their tracks, all except Maka who took the opportunity to fight her way back towards the action. She needed to be near him, to see him and support him. She couldn't do anything for him, but it didn't matter as she shoved and pushed others out of her way. Soul was fighting for her, she had to be willing to do the same!

"You mean to tell me that even after remembering how to play piano, you still don't remember anything else?" Maka heard a quiet voice say, whom she recognized to be Kidd's.

There was no response, at least none that she could hear. Maybe Soul did say something back to him, but all of her focus was on making it towards the opening that lay just beyond a few people in front of her. These Reapers! Why couldn't they just move and let her through!? With little patience left she shoved them out of the way and finally made it past the crowd of onlookers, leaving her to emerge out into the empty circle that Soul and Kidd had unconsciously claimed as their own. Immediately she caught her breath and stared at the man she was there for, his scythe long since called to his side.

Soul slashed at the air before crouching to the floor, like a panther getting ready to kill. "There's nothing to remember! All I've ever been is a **_fucking to__ol__!__"_**

"That's not true, Soul," The Grim muttered, oblivious to the utter fury plastered on his opponent's face. "That's a goddamn lie, and even you know it-"

"**-Don't ever call me by that name! Only Maka calls me that, not you!**" Soul screamed out with rabid teeth, surprising everyone as he burst into a rage-filled sprint.

Lord Grim had no time to react, for once in his life too shocked to even move as the image of a ghostly phantom came careening towards him. Not until the faintest hint of cold steel suddenly graced his cheek did Kidd finally attempt to dodge, and by then it was already too late to escape Soul's scythe completely. Wide eyed, the man in black side stepped as a bloody cut graced his once flawless cheek, pain striking his pride more than anything else. But there was no time to call his opponent out on it; Before he could even turn to face his Reaper, Kidd was already dodging another attack.

A whirlwind of white and black broke out in the middle of that circle, their movements so fast that hardly anyone could follow as Soul had his once-master on the ropes. Shades of crimson splashed in the opaque palettes they cast, a legendary scythe being enough to cause even The Grim himself to runaway from him. Fire burned in both his eyes and chest as Kidd stared at him the entire time, their inhuman speed masking a complicated dance of thrusts, parries, and dodges. As Soul took a swipe from the side, Kidd met the attack with a solid block of his arm. No damage; the man's entire body was a weapon.

It was all the same to Soul. If that's how Lord Grim wanted to play, he would oblige.

For the second time that eternal night, a god was taken aback. Searing pain erupted from his head as another crashed into it, Soul's skull meeting his with such vigor that it seemed like he almost enjoyed it. His devil toothed grin glowed a ghostly white, the only thing Kidd could see as he reeled from the blow and took a few steps back to recover. The Reaper to rule all shouted out in agony and dismay, part of him already knowing what the future held for him. And as if to fulfill Kidd's own prophecy, Soul was there with scythe in hand. His sneer almost palpable, the White Reaper took one step back and put everything he had into the weight of one final attack. He spun and held tight, screaming as he gave his all into the weapon, the whistle of air breaking before its bloodied tip.

Maka took a sharp breath. They all did.

Some even found the strength to gasp outright, and maybe one or two screamed out at the sight. Either way, the reaction was clear; Disbelief that a god could die right in front of them. How could he be alive? How could anyone be alive after that? Maka found herself shaking at the sight, every fiber of her being telling her to look away though she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Kidd standing there, a scythe plunged into his stomach with the curving sticking out the other end of his spine. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and hers were no different. Lord Grim's head hung low, completely limp.

The only movement that came from his was the slight jiggle of Soul's scythe, as the latter hovered over his capture prey with shallow breath. The grin on his face had quickly disappeared at the sight; Kidd slaughtered by his own hands, still dangling like used goods from a hook. For a moment, Soul didn't know what to do. He didn't dare look up, nor even spare a glance at the crowds that surrounded him. Cotton filled his mouth as his senses quickly returned to him, as blood lust vanished in an instant from his eyes. Shock was the only expression he could muster, that and the pained gape that swept across his face as red stuff flowed from Lord Grim's corpse down onto the shaft of his scythe. He became transfixed as it flowed down, almost touching his fingers. He couldn't tear his eyes away from it. What had he done?

"_If only you could remember, Evans,"_ hushed words spoke to him, the last one causing his entire body to lock up and freeze. "_You'd know that **I can't** **die.**"_

The scythe in Soul's hands quivered as the body that hung off it quickly sprang back to life, Kidd's face popping up to meet his with horrifying speed. A scream caught in his throat, blood flowing like a river from The Grim's mouth being enough to make even him quake in terror. And he was powerless to stop the man as he grabbed hold of his scythe's blade with two bare hands and wrenched the metal out from his torso, a gaping hole that served as an enormous window to the wall behind him. Still as a statue, Soul could only accept the uppercut that Kidd delivered to his stomach, the force sending him flying back.

He could hear Maka's call to him as he hit the ground with a dramatic thud, as his was the only sound in the entire theater. She said something to him, but he didn't care. About her, about himself. He just wanted to lay there. Not because of the punch he'd just received; in truth, he'd hardly felt it. What made him want to disappear from life itself were those five little letters that Lord Grim had muttered to him, that one, single word that had drained all the color from his face and forced his guard down. It was like he had just been given a death sentence, but how on earth could a single word do that! A simple...name?

"You remember that name...don't you? That's what everyone...called you back then. So...so long ago." Kidd shuddered in the distance, hand clasping his gaping wound.

Soul sputtered in shock, his eyes wider than ever. "Stop messing with me, you bastard! I've never had a name! You've never called me anything other than-!"

"-Eater...it's better to know now," The Grim winced, taking a deep breath as a torrent of his essence bled out from him. "Memories never go away, especially when it involves him."

Him. _Him__?_ Who the fuck was **_him_**? Why did he suddenly care what The Grim had to say? What was this feeling burning the back of his throat that stung like no tomorrow? This lump that kept him from saying a word as his head shot up in search of answers, scarlet eyes redder than the sun. He didn't know what to expect by looking at Kidd, the damned bastard there in the distance, hunched over in an effort to steady himself. Maybe part of him wanted to see firsthand the damage he'd done, a sick, twisted side of him that wanted nothing more than to see his former master in as much agony as he was. Though the only thing that greeted him were those golden lights that stared back at him, the reflection of rings in Lord Grim's eyes making Soul sink lower to the floor as if he were a target.

Then his breath hitched. Like a pained animal, air wheezed from his lungs in a hollow scream.

The Grim didn't say it out loud. He didn't have to. All Soul needed to see was him mouth one, single word; _"Wes."_

It was bloodcurdling how quickly he lost his composure. In an instant, it sounded as though Soul had been stabbed through the heart. Everyone in the theater became dead silent, frozen still at the sight of a monstrous Reaper being reduced to a screaming child. Off to the side, Maka covered her mouth with both hands and stared. At first she didn't know what to do, unable to do say or do anything like the Reapers that surrounded her. She dared not breathe, not when Soul couldn't find it in him to cease his pitiful display. Her lungs ached for him as did her heart. Things had spiraled out of control.

When he finally buried his face into the floor and fell silent, Maka ran towards him. She didn't care that The Grim was there in that circle, nor did she let Soul halfheartedly push her away when she scooped him into her arms. The Reaper's weak protests ceased when he felt her face bury into the side of his own. Soul's heart beat so hard his chest could hardly contain it and for once in his life, tears pooled to the point of almost running down his cheeks. But with every last bit of sanity he had left and Maka's trembling whispers, he somehow found it within him to not lose it completely. Though, just barely.

"Soul, it's okay-! I'm here now!" She repeated several times, cradling him. The effort didn't go unnoticed, just unacknowledged.

"...You bastard...I'll kill you, I swear to god, I'll kill you...!" Soul choked, eyes hidden behind white locks. "...You killed him. You son of a bitch...!"

On the brink of losing his mind, only two things became clear to him in that swirling abyss that was now his mind. One was that, standing not even twenty feet in front of him, was the reason why he knew nothing. About himself, about the world around him. Why everyone else around him seemed to know more about him than he did himself. Anger boiled through his veins, giving him the strength that he had lost and so desperately needed at the moment. Revenge was his motivation, and with the blinding power it gave him he promptly tore away from Maka, though not before giving her a passing glance.

He didn't forget about her. All of this was to keep her safe with him. It's just that now he had another reason to hate The Grim, something he had forgotten long ago was this important to him. The image of emerald eyes burned into his mind, along with another pair that had been lost to him two hundred years before; Pale ones, like his own during the day, but so much brighter. The face behind them slowly started to reveal itself to him, and every second he could remember more and more. The calm face, the tall body, a personality that everyone loved. Why couldn't it have been him...? Those words, he remembered... 

"...**_You're_ **the one who took my brother away from me...**_you're_** the one who killed Wes!"

The Grim straightened. "Your memory must not be all there yet, Soul...I never laid a finger on him, and that's the truth-"

"-You stood there and _**watched** _him die like a callous bastard!" Soul barked, summoning his scythe one final time. "That makes you responsible!"

The air swirled like a small tornado when he bounded forward, rocks and rubble kicked up from the sheer force of Soul's unrestricted fury. Maka shielded her eyes while he disappeared from sight, only to materialize yet again in front of the man who had stolen everything from him. There was no holding back anymore, no doubt as to whether or not he wanted Kidd dead or not. It was all he had left now, the only consolation he could have left for these fleeting memories that were slowly returning to him. Kidd's unfeeling eyes were only fuel to his fire, and they beckoned him to finish the job he'd started earlier.

To the point of getting sloppy. Of not calculating like he should have, like he usually did. Soul recklessly raised his scythe high into the air, not at all following the style of attack that had worked so well for him before. He didn't want to merely slice The Grim in half; He wanted to bash his skull in and see his brains. So as the butt of his blade came down to meet with Kidd's head, the crippled god turned his own anger against him. As if seeing clearly his blind spot, with a single arm he caught the scythe as it barreled towards him, and with his other bloodied fist met Soul's ribs in a sickening crunch.

"I'm the one reason you're still walking around! Dammit, _**remember!**"_ Kidd screamed, pulling his hand back for another punch.

And as the second attack connected, Soul was powerless to dodge the bone crunching punch to his side. He sputtered. "I can't-!"

Without another word, Lord Grim finished his handiwork. The blows kept coming, and coming, each one ending in another pop that signaled just how many of Soul's bones had shattered in his torso. Every scream became louder, the pain increasing to a point where he couldn't even move. It became a loop of of torture, his loss of energy only leaving him open for more punishment, and by the time all his air had left him, Soul's face had fallen to mere inches from Kidd's own. The Grim cocked his fist back one more time, holding it underneath his prey as a reminder of what was about to come.

He tried to pick his head up, to at least spit in the bastards face before another fist was plunged into his ribs. But before Soul could even move an inch, Kidd had found a way to break him. The words whispered in his ear fell like cold, heavy iron, the sentence being enough to make him stop dead in his tracks. Every word made his eyes grow wider, to the point of nearly falling out completely; If there was any will left in Soul, those words killed it. And as the man grew limp in Kidd's grasp, everyone watching expected to see him suddenly spring to life like he had done so many times before. He never did.

"Despite what you may think of me, I've only ever killed two men in my life...and I'll have you know that I'm staring at one of them right now."


	27. The Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get some snacks or something. This chapter's a long one.

_Golden light filtered through the canopies of trees greener than grass, smells of summer soaking the air in every sense of the phrase. Wood and bark mixed with pollen from hundreds of different wildflowers, forming a heated soup of nature in the grasslands that was almost sickening in its beauty. Smaller animals dotted the landscape; rabbits running amidst the taller shelter, while squirrels scrambled for the safety of their homes as birds and the occasional fox made life difficult for them. At the same time, two people shared the small plot of land with them, the creatures' antics proving to be more than adequate entertainment for them._

_It must have been a crime somewhere for life to be this good, though even if it was the pair probably wouldn't have cared. And as one of them sat against the trunk of a giant oak, his hair glowing under the sun as it peeked out from behind giant leaves, he couldn't help but to muse over just how long it had been since either of them had even followed the law. Their endeavors, their goals in life, were far from the conservative. He and his accomplice weren't criminals, in fact they'd hadn't actually committed any crimes that he knew of yet. It's just that, if the opportunity were to present itself, Wes dared to think that they would._

_Or at least **he **would, the player thought to himself as he looked up to the branches above him. Sprawled out there on his back, one leg over the other, laid his younger accomplice. Eyes closed as the heat beat on him from all sides, the man's temples beaded with sweat as he tapped the branches to an unheard rhythm. Evans blood flowed through Soul in bulk, much more than himself, though his little brother would never dare to admit it. Not after how their parents had left them; deader than dirt after bandits had killed the famous couple long ago. The once-boy resented them for it, but Wes knew it to only be stubbornness. Another Evans trait._

_"Wes, you're quiet." Soul suddenly mumbled, closed-eye twitching as a bee flew past him. "No wonder it's been so pleasant, you're not telling me how I should sleep."_

_"Oh? Is that so? Well, now that you mention it, you'll end up hurting your back if you lay like that. Perhaps if you came down here and sat next to me-?"_

_The older brother chuckled as his sibling threw down a branch to shush him, leaves and nuts getting caught in his thick, unruly hair. Wes simply shook himself clean and tilted his head up to meet his brother's half-opened eyes as the latter hung his head, arms dangling on either side of him as he looked smugly down from his high perch. They locked stares for a moment, before Soul quickly grew bored and flipped over to his side. He gave a tired sigh as Wes did the same, the two of them quickly falling back into the lull of lazy summer that had them asleep for most of the day. Their camp long since packed, there was little more for them to do till nightfall._

_"Hey, Brother. How far is it till the next town?" Soul prodded lazily, the beginnings of a yawn tugging at his words._

_Wes simply shrugged, knowing full well his brother couldn't see. "About a half dozen miles by foot. Plenty of aristocrats I hear."_

_The youngest Evans grinned to himself. "Which means there's bound to be a piano there somewhere. Finally, a chance to play for coin."_

_"Honestly, Soul, why the piano of all instruments? You could have chosen something else, something that's far easier to carry and entertain with."_

_"Do you really have to ask?" his sibling replied, slightly annoyed. "It brings in the most money, even though hardly anyone has one. Plus, it doesn't hurt that-"_

_"-Women love a man with nimble fingers?" Wes cut him off, an amused grin tugged high on his lips as Soul snickered in the branches above._

_Both men laughed, knowing each other to the point of reading the other's mind. Such was the result of living every waking second together, depending on one another since the tender age of fifteen, though for Soul it was more like seven. In any case, the pair shared everything together. This included the bravado one receives after years of minstrel work, even though it was usually Wes who did most of the playing. Soul usually kept to the sidelines, his chosen instrument being one that was also impossible to travel with. Though when the opportunity presented itself, the youngest brother always brought in the most cash; People paid to see a piano played well._

_All the more reason why, after their fit of chuckling was over, Wes contemplated leaving for town all the sooner. No doubt word had already gotten around by horse that the infamous bards from parts unknown were on their way this very moment to seek company in front of aristocracy. If timed right, they could very well make it to civilization by nightfall, maybe even sooner. That left them plenty of time to settle down at an inn and prepare for an audience with the upper crusts of the town, one of them no doubt having a piano somewhere for Soul to take full advantage of. His own violin would be there as well, keeping those cold, ivory keys company._

_"So what have you, my perverse little brother?" Wes sneered, wiping away the moisture on his brow. "Should we stay here and broil?"_

_Soul groaned from the treetops. "Well considering you won't let me sleep in peace, and I **know **you want to leave, let's go."_

_The eldest Evans nodded. "In that case hurry up and get down here, before this summer air puts me to sleep."_

_Without so much as removing his hands out from his pockets, Soul obliged. He slunk off the side of his high up retreat, falling to the ground on his feet with a resounding thud as his brother looked on with a raised eyebrow. The younger of the two stared back, a sharp toothed grin plastered to his face at Wes' unspoken remark at being a showoff. Soul simply straightened himself out in stride as he walked past him, not even so much as sparing the man a passing glance as he got up from his seat and dusted the grass off his trousers. Wes was left there to collect the things as his sibling trotted along, feigning ignorance at the work needed to be done._

_"Cheeky bastard." the violinist mumbled to himself, gathering the little baggage the two of them carried around._

_Proud of himself and feeling rather smug, Soul continued to grin to himself as his feet carried him forward. The sounds of his brother's grumbling sounded like sweet music to his ears and as they become just a little bit fainter in the distance, he couldn't help but to let his mind migrate towards the thought of having a chance to play some music of his own later that night. Perhaps a fine, grande piano made by a famous maker, or some antique that hadn't seen use in years. No matter what the condition was though, any piano would do. So long as his aching fingers could be soothed by strenuous chords and melodies, it was enough for him._

_Such an experience was enough to make him salivate, but quickly Soul swallowed before his mouth could get ahead of him. His brother always made fun of him for it; he swore his name should've been Eater._

* * *

_The Brothers Evans._

_A musical duo unrivaled by any other, or so a few rabble rousers claimed. Some considered the pair the greatest bards this side of Shiscepa Village, while others still made the bold declaration that Wes and Soul Evans were even better musicians than those found past the vast desert far off to the west where many had found fame and fortune. No matter what the case may have been however, there was no denying that the pair was good, because that's all they would ever admit to. Neither would take titles given to them nor accept the offers received to be court minstrels, of which there were many._

_Their ideals lay not with glory or high positions as permanent entertainment for dukes and lords. All the brothers wanted was money; enough coin to get them through the day, and perhaps enough to have a little extra fun at pubs and bars. They had no aspirations for conservative living, no dreams of a house somewhere that the two could share until one of them got lucky enough to marry. Life for the pair was simply a journey, one that was only made easier by the presence of one another and nothing else. All the women in a village couldn't stack up to camaraderie, especially when that comrade was your brother, and only living relative no less._

_So perhaps that was why when the music stopped playing in that ballroom of checkerboard black and white floors, the only one clapping in support was the pianist's only brother. Ringing loud in that awkwardly quiet audience, Wes' encouragement masked the obvious pants of exhaustion that Soul so desperately tried to hide from the others in the room. But he couldn't help it, and though part of him was grateful for his brother's applause, he just couldn't help the bitter glower that swept across his face. The only comfort he truly had was that nobody could see him in his hunched over form, face hidden._

_It hadn't happened in quite some time, but when it did, his reputation took a beating. As did Wes'._

_They called him insane. Not necessarily everyone, but certainly those that had heard the eccentric choice of music he'd played for them. Normally Soul would hold back, give the audience what they wanted. To be coddled by serene music that was pleasant to the ear, and easy on the heart. Sometimes he'd get a little bolder, and play something more daring for the younger crowd. Always however, the melodies he held closest to his heart always went unplayed and unheard. At least, almost always; such was the case right now, when his eagerness to play after months of not having done so made him forget to be wary with his music._

_They were supposed to be playing for coin not personal enjoyment. That's what he told himself always before taking up playing posture, so careful not to devolve into an inhuman hunch and take up those bestial chords that tugged at his very soul. But the poor pianist hadn't done that this time, hadn't given himself the pep-talk he thought he didn't need. And as he gulped down a breath to still his aching lungs, and rose to meet the stunned faces of those that were so eager to hear him play not even minutes ago, Soul damned his brother halfheartedly. **He** never had to worry about doing the same thing he had done, Wes was always in control._

_Perhaps that was why his brother enjoyed playing, and he didn't._

_Perhaps, he thought to himself, Wes was just a better player than he could ever be._

_Either way, it didn't matter. As with all the other times he'd lost his head and gotten ahead of himself in his playing, Soul simply took a bow and walked away from the crowd. Not even so much as looking at anyone else in the eyes, he made a b-line for Wes as everyone watched him go. The constant beat of his brother's applause remained the only sound to be heard, every clap bringing an even deeper feeling of shame to Soul._

_"Fantastic work as always, brother." the eldest Evans smiled, throwing his hand on Soul's shoulders as he came skulking towards him. "I think you broke their brains with that one!"_

_"Knock it off, Wes." was all he said in reply, his eyes hung lower than the floor though his head remained high for appearances. Wes looked down on him and frowned._

_"If ever you fucked up enough to where I was ashamed of you, you'd be the first to know. As if I'd honestly care what the white collars think of your playing?"_

_Soul shrugged, though he already knew the answer to his brother's question. The latter simply waved him off towards some seats in the corner, where he could take a breath while smoothing things over with the party. It didn't take him any convincing; Soul immediately went straight out of sight, like a dog trying to escape its angry master. Behind rows of standing people he sneaked, perfectly, as Wes quickly worked his way to the piano with that cool, collected face of his. With a little bit of envy, the younger of the two watched as his brother stood up in front of the other people effortlessly. The man was a people person, unlike him._

_"They say geniuses are born ahead of their time. Your silence is probably confirmation of that." Wes chided with a smile. "But art can entertain for only so long, so why not something with more levity?"_

_Taking up a chair in the corner of the room, the lone man with eyes of gray scowled. Not at his brothers attempt to justify his playing, but at the way the circle of people so immediately threw themselves at him. It was like a crack of the whip, the speed with which everyone suddenly seemed all the happier. They could carry on in ignorant bliss without a care in the world again, and all because Wes simply used that charm he was blessed with since birth. It was a gift Soul himself could pretend to claim as his own, but never truly receive; Fate had given his brother everything to succeed, while all Fate had done was give him a brother._

_The eldest Evans took up his bow and string fluidly, grinning that modest grin all the young noble girls absolutely swooned over. A flick of the wrist and a pleasant chord soon followed, quickly leading to the finest violinist that ever lived awing a crowd with nimble fingers that danced across the bridge of his instrument. Brooding thoughts left Soul the moment he heard his brother's playing, it's intensity grown all the more since he couldn't see him over the crowd's shoulders. At the first note his lips curled into a reserved smile, Wes' tune being one that he'd heard many times before during warm nights around the campfire when they were younger. And, admittedly, even after fifteen years of traveling together, it was a song that Soul still wished to hear played after long days of travel and even longer evenings performing;_

_Adagio of the Soul, the piece Wes played for him after their parents died._

_It was intoxicating, really. The softness with which his brother played, it stood in stark contrast to his own piano work. The violin was meant to soothe and few could deny that, but Wes' playing went beyond that. Every time the man's bow slid across those tiny strings an inhuman noise came from them, like a lullaby, but not really. Something along the lines of a soothing tale, a story being told without words. If angels were real they were probably fanning themselves just as those young women in the crowd were, that Evans charm only adding to the speed with which he stole the hearts of every female in the room._

_Perhaps Soul was guilty of lulling into his brother's playing as well, since it wasn't until a cough rang out next to him that he realized his family's charm had worked in his favor as well. Shaken back into reality, the pianist stole a glance from the corner of his eye and found an indigo pair staring back at him. Her charcoal hair stood out against everyone else's in the room and simply by the dress she wore, Soul could tell this woman was rich. Very rich. No other person could afford such intricate designs in saffron colored dancing wear, and even if they could, why on earth would one spend their life savings like that in the first place?_

_"I loved your playing, you know." she said with the sweetest smile, so well rehearsed it almost felt genuine._

_Immediately he flashed a crooked grin her way, his gray eyes burning with cynicism. "Really? What was your favorite part?"_

_"Everything, although my favorite was the end. When you slammed your hands down onto the piano? I wouldn't call it **music**, but-"_

_"-I think we're done here." Soul muttered as he got up. He took a few steps before turning around. "Why'd you have to open your mouth? You're fucking gorgeous!"_

_The woman simply smiled back pleasantly, as if all she wanted was to get a rise out of him. Soul bit his tongue in anger and started off again, but not before stealing one last look over at the infuriating aristocrat. Much to his dismay, he was passing up quite the opportunity; her chest was worth about two of his head, and her curves were nothing short of perfection. Full of pride and slight stupidity however, Soul quickly made a dash for the other end of the ballroom. The entire walk over, his only consolation was the fact that at least he couldn't forget her face. For some reason, she kept her hair in a ponytail, opening up all of her features._

_He stole a flute of champagne before finally finding a place to settle down, the other end of the ballroom where there was more room to breathe. Not wanting to sit down again and go through the same thing however, Soul simply stood and drowned his bitterness to the tune of his brother's playing. The entire time, stealing glances across the crowd at the woman as she looked around at other people innocently. The bitch._

_She really wasn't his type per say, though that would imply that he had one. He'd have been lying if he said he didn't like girls with lighter hair and at least enough brains to get his snide comments and witty remarks, but maybe his brother had been a bad influence on him all this time. Wes despised those that were both rich and idiotic, but that never stopped him from somehow finding women with big brains and even bigger endowments. And needless to say, this particular girl didn't **seem **stupid. In fact, Soul dared to think that she was...toying with him? It couldn't be. Then again, it seemed like she knew he was watching her..._

_Ah, fuck. She was._

_Watching her as he downed his drink, Soul found that sweet smile from before. Bright, indigo eyes stared back at him in a way that almost made him bring his guard down, almost. The only thing keeping him from running back over there was dignity, which was pretty much the only thing he had going for him at the moment. Still, the man knew when he had it bad, and it was certainly one of those times now. So by the time all the champagne had disappeared and he was still on the receiving end of that damned innocent stare, Soul found it in himself to groan and scratch the back of his hair; He'd lost._

_With a little bit of shame and a lot of grumbling, the pianist started making his way back to her. Past prying eyes of strangers, he focused on his brother the entire time as he walked, careful not to make it look like he was crawling back like a beggar. Still playing that soft, sweet melody of his, Wes opened a single one of his closed eyes and stared back at him as if already knowing exactly what was going on. It didn't make things easier._

_Especially not by the time he actually **got **to the woman sitting down, and realized that he was back to square one with her. She was still there, bright eyed and smiling, although he was no closer to knowing just exactly what the hell to do. Again looking one more time to his brother, Soul gave a quiet sigh to himself when he realized that if things were going to work in his favor, he had to act just like him._

_Although, that was easier said than done. Especially when he held his hand out and rather gruffly mumbled, "You wanna dance?"_

_She smiled wider, if that were even possible. "I'd love to, Soul. But it's such a slow song, I just don't think it would be appropriate."_

_"I'm sure it'll pick up in a minute." Soul reasoned, reaching for her hand which she gave up easily. "Knowing my brother, he'll cater to everyone."_

_As if on cue, Wes' sweet tune took a turn for the upbeat. Gentle strums of the bridge became harder in the background as Soul led his dance partner to the ballroom floor, the latter knowing that his brother wouldn't let him down. And no sooner had he put his arm around that raven haired girl did the two of them start to waltz, albeit it a faster one than the others around them were used to. Regardless, Soul quickly found that he'd made a good choice; this woman could keep up with him no problem, and in fact seemed to already know the dance herself. He shouldn't have been too surprised however, after all she was part of the upper crust._

_"It's certainly a pleasure to be dancing with a famous bard like this." she hummed, twirling in sync with him. "I know I'm not much, considering you haven't even asked me my name yet."_

_Soul's eyes widened to near three times their size, the blow to his confidence almost tangible. The woman only giggled, again taking pleasure in his squirming. "It's Tsubaki."_

_"Eastern, right?" he replied almost immediately, surprising Tsubaki as the two of them continued to waltz. "We've been there once, names all sound similar there."_

_"Ah, well, I can't say for sure. I don't know much about my family, only that it's very old." she explained, ending the conversation by moving in closer._

_Though he wanted to talk a little more, Soul wasn't one to push things further than need be. This was especially true when a beautiful woman was willing to flirt with him...or at least, that's what he thought she was doing anyway. He honestly couldn't tell with this one, even after staring into her soft, indigo eyes with those hardened, gray ones of his own. Wes' playing in the background, Soul became lost in that enigmatic gaze he found himself on the receiving end of; Tsubaki exuded the air of a sweet, reserved aristocrat, while at the same time being unable to read any further into. Perhaps guarded was the right word for it? Veiled?_

_"You really shouldn't stare like that, Soul. People will start to talk, although I have a feeling you wouldn't mind."_

_Dammit. He quickly blinked and broke off his short-lived stare, turning his head in annoyance at the way Tsubaki made him feel like the court jester. This time she laughed outright, though not in any cruel sort of way. Her laughter was pleasant as was her voice; reserved, almost thoughtful, like she was wary of how other people may perceive her. Soul could appreciate that, and found soon enough that his love of her company far outweighed his desire to leave for someone a little less agitating. So he bit his sharp tongue and decided to stick around, to figure out just who exactly this woman was._

_"My lord has heard of you, the famous brothers Evans." Tsubaki revealed to him after another moment of silence._

_Immediately, Soul gave lopsided smile. "Oh, so that's what this is about? Look, Wes and I play when we want, not for some-"_

_"-This isn't about money, Soul. I assure you." she frowned at him, closing in as the music started to slow. "Although coin isn't an issue."_

_"So what is this about? Look, no matter how well we play, me and my brother are just minstrels. If he's looking for a court musician, he can forget it."_

_Tsubaki sighed with slight annoyance, being the first time Soul saw her display any emotion besides happy. Obviously she was trying to get at something, though he was hardly in the mood to play games. Still, he didn't resist when Tsubaki wrapped her arms around his neck to the quickly dying tune of his brother's violin. With a skeptical look, Soul firmly gripped the sides of her waist and for the moment, shared the lead with her. It only seemed appropriate, considering how she seemed to be leading him on the entire night anyway; every other step they switched, and it was a miracle the two of them didn't fall on their faces immediately._

_But somehow they managed, and with the final throws of his brother's song, Soul took the reins one last time. His feet never missed a beat, and Tsubaki's never faltered in following them perfectly. Other dancers came and went around them, none dedicated enough to see their waltz through till the end. Only the two of them remained until the last note, and by the time it was done, Tsubaki's smile had returned yet again._

_"All he wants is an opportunity to talk," she started, stepping back just a little. "And if you're always this suave, then he shouldn't be disappointed when you meet."_

_"Which is when, exactly?" Soul asked with a dull glaze, one that quickly disappeared at the feeling of Tsubaki's arms coiling around him once more._

_She didn't lean in, however. Still as a statue, her indigo eyes shone with a hint of knowing. "The moment you leave this town, of course."_

_A lump grew in the back of the young minstrel's throat, one that hadn't been felt since long before growing out of childhood. Due in part to the fact that they were the only ones still this close in the ballroom, the rest of it had to do with his brother not being able to support him with his music anymore. That wasn't to say he was hopeless however, because the moment the opportunity presented itself, he had his arms around her as well. So close they could feel each other's breath, the knots in Soul's body became tighter and tighter, each second of silence between them only adding to mounting uneasiness he felt in the pit of his stomach._

_"We're not leaving until tomorrow." he said coolly, even though every part of him was doing aerials. "I wouldn't mind some more of your company until then."_

_Tsubaki's face turned shades darker than before, eyes darting to the side as a grin tugged at her lips. "Something tells me your brother wouldn't want the extra company?"_

_Soul shrugged and gave a grin of his own. "Wes prefers to stay in separate rooms. We get enough of each other as it is, there's no reason for us to bunk together."_

_"As tempting as that sounds, Soul, I'll have to decline." she said gently, her skin burning with heat. "You're very debonair but, a bit too young for me unfortunately. Perhaps in a few hundred years?"_

_The woman leaned in and dodged the fresh look of confusion plastered across Soul's face, planting a firm kiss on his cheek before breaking away outright. Unable to do anything but stay there, still as a statue, the red faced bard watched his dancing partner quickly step back into the crowd without saying another word. She disappeared from his life as quickly as she came, leaving with him with only the image of her scarlet flush and his own unending bewilderment; had he just been made a fool of? What the hell was that supposed to mean, 'in a few hundred years?' She looked no older than he did, so what with the exaggerated age difference?_

_She could have at least given him a real kiss! A peck on the cheek...what were they, children? Still though, he couldn't help but to rub the spot where her lips had touched him, staring off into the throngs of standing people as if in a trance. Tsubaki was long gone now, probably off to tell her lord about their little encounter together. Whoever the bastard was, he was definitely lucky; to have someone like that at their every beck and call..._

_"-So how'd the courting turn out? I noticed the kiss, you devil!" Wes' voice suddenly rang, his sneer noticeable even without looking._

_Soul turned around just before feeling a slap on his back. His brother's enthusiasm made him feel a little better. "Wish I knew."_

_He scanned the area, trying to find any trace of the woman even though he knew there'd be no hope of finding her. She was long gone, away with his heart for the evening no less. Soul tossed his brother a shrug and parted ways as he made a b-line for the champagne again, taking up a flute in his hand without hesitation. There were plenty of fish in the sea as his brother told him, and he'd be right in saying that. It's just that, as he downed the alcohol like a man lost in the desert, the young pianist couldn't help but feel like this particular fish would've been quite the catch, even if she'd just swim away like all the others._

_Ah, what did it matter to him? He was more of a pasta man, anyway._

* * *

_They left early in the morning. Any later, and the heat would have made it impossible to travel._

_There was no sun, only clouds of gray that blanketed the sky in a heated froth. Humidity was the killing factor, the air so thick with moisture that their simple clothes stuck like tree sap to their skin and weighed them even more than their mutual hangovers. Wes especially felt the bitter sting of fine wine while Soul trudged behind him, both brothers having neither the strength nor the fortitude to keep going._

_But still they kept walking. Away from yet another town, they'd eventually return to in a few years time just as they did with all the others. It was how they did business; stay a couple nights, live up the money gained from performances, then leave and do it all over again. This time however, they left without splurging their hard earned coin. At Soul's request, they both packed the night before and started for the next town ahead of schedule. He reasoned that if they saved up enough and made good enough time then they'd be able to drown themselves in the finest alcohol their lips had ever tasted, for which the village they were heading towards was famous for._

_Wes of course agreed wholeheartedly. At least, that's what he led his little brother to believe anyway._

_The man had seemed so shaken last night, but he didn't have the heart to say anything. What would have that accomplished, anyway? To ask anything intrusive about Soul was simply a wish to be shut out; he didn't like to talk about personal matters, especially when it involved how he felt at any given time. And that business with the busty brunette on the dance floor seemed like none of his own concern, although that didn't seem to be what was bugging the little pianist. More like, it seemed like something she **said **was, then again it could have also been that kiss she gave him. Maybe Soul was just lousy with women? Go figure._

_No matter what the reason, it didn't stop him from worrying about his little brother. At every opportunity he got, Wes tossed looks over his shoulder to spy on him. Each time, Soul's apathetic stare would be there to greet him like always and it irked him to no end. They'd known each other their entire lives and yet the little prick was unwilling to tell him anything, let alone vent to get something off his chest._

_"You know, I never took you for the drinking type Soul. Imagine my surprise when I woke up and found you doubled over the toilet, puking your guts out?"_

_"Wow, thanks for the mental image brother." the younger of the two growled, clutching his stomach to keep steady. "I'm sick enough as it is, I don't need your commentary."_

_Wes snorted. "Commentary? Try a lecture, Evans. Only one of us can be the boozer, and suffice to say that's my job. The next time you get rejected, don't take it out on the bottle, understood?_

_Soul scowled at the back of his sibling's head, wanting nothing more than to smack it a good few times. His body however was not willing to comply, and the moment he picked up the pace his stomach turned completely into knots. As if knowing already of his misery, Wes laughed without turning around, which of course lead to Soul trying the same thing again. This time he bit through queasiness and managed to sneak up behind the woozy violinist, getting in a clean smack of the back of his brown haired head. For a moment he savored his small victory, that is until the man turned around with a terrifying glaze._

_Before Soul could quickly apologize, a fist was already in his stomach. "Are we really back to this? I thought you grew out of this years ago!"_

_"I **smacked **you, you bastard!" he sputtered, quickly returning a jab of his own. "That doesn't mean you can **punch **me!"_

_"Oh, so you can slap like a prepubescent girl and that's fine, but the moment I act my age and gender, suddenly **I'm **the unreasonable one! Get over it!"_

_Wes shoved Soul. Soul pushed back. The former grabbed him by the collar, while the latter did the same with his neck. In a moments time they were falling to the ground, rolling around in the dirt as if they were back to being teenagers again. In the days before maturity, the two used to settle their arguments with fists and rough house though such instances had gotten more rare with age. Still, brothers were brothers and some things couldn't be buried with words, all the more reason why both minstrels now found themselves trading blows on the floor and careening towards a steep hill no less._

_As with all other times, Wes had the upper hand. With age came strength and brains, things he used to full effect as he locked his brother into a choke hold as they tumbled towards the peak. Unable to break out of it, Soul was at the mercy of both him and gravity, both men powerless to escape their sudden roll downwards. The two continued to struggle even as they fell, although it was a useless effort on Soul's part. Wes had him right where he wanted him and he had no trouble letting his young opponent know that. His laughter echoed out over trees and brush, pissing Soul off to no end._

_By the time they hit rock bottom, the Evans brothers had already fumbled away from each other. One landed on his back, the other on his stomach, both covered in dirt and grass with brush sticking out of their thick hairs. It was a sight to be sure, but one only Wes drew amusement from. Soul meanwhile grumbled and hissed, hoisting himself up without sparing his sibling a hand. The latter only continued to laugh, his deep chuckles masking the faint clapping coming from behind them. In their ignorance, neither noticed the quiet applause coming from the background as they bickered amongst themselves over whose fault it was._

_Their infighting was quickly hushed by laughter however, this time not from Wes. And as the two spun around to see who it was, their faces dropped to the floor in surprise._

_Standing there in the middle of a dirt road, escorted by a pair of guards, stood a man dressed in black. The applause came from him, while the other men roared with laughter at the sight of both bards bickering like school children. His face was pleasant, lips curled into a smile that gave the amusement in his eyes little justice. On that same note, the way he stood in the sun made his irises look almost golden, with rings like a target. Clearly it was a trick of the light, but still this man gave such an awe inspiring feeling. His clothes had much to do with it was well; a midnight black suit with frills of white here and there, in the summer no less._

_Soul and Wes quickly flashed each other a look and promptly broke of their quarreling by pushing one another away. Finding their appearances less than presentable, the pair scrambled to dust themselves off as the two guards continued laughing, their intimidating swords clanking inside their holsters. The man standing in the middle waited patiently, his clapping finished, and after a moment to freshen up the Evans brothers straightened._

_"Even when not playing, you two put on quite a show." he mused, motioning for his entourage to hush. "I expected no less from the men Tsubaki speaks so highly of."_

_Immediately, Soul perked. He took a few steps forward, but stopped when the guards made it known to stay back with their swords. "You're...Tsubaki's lord?"_

_The man nodded, but not before glaring at the swordsmen to stand down. "She spoke volumes of your skills, it's an honor to finally meet you."_

_"The honor's all ours, your lordship. Please excuse the rough housing." Wes quickly chimed in while giving a courteous bow._

_His young brother promptly did the same, if only for a moment. Tsubaki's master would have none of it and quickly he requested for them to stop, finding the entire thing far too stuffy for such an informal meeting. Wes and Soul popped back up obediently, a grin on the latter's face at the thought of finally meeting this mysterious person his dance partner had mentioned last night. He seemed nice enough, considering his guards could have easily chopped them to pieces. And the way Tsubaki's eyes shone when she spoke of him made Soul feel at ease, her pleasant face being all he needed to let his guard down._

_So when the man beckoned them to come closer, neither he nor Wes hesitated. Soul went first, his brother close behind as they both eyed the guards standing watch over them. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before breaking off awkwardly, both sides not necessarily trusting the other. Only the young lord and youngest Evans seemed completely calm, both nodding at each other as they approached._

_Soul was surprised to find the other man's hand waiting for him first, far out of character for an aristocrat. "Kidd is what my servants call me. Soul, if I'm not mistaken?"_

_"Yes, sir. It's been hell wondering where I'd run into you." he grinned, before quickly covering for his use of language. "I mean, Tsubaki- your servant, she-"_

_Kidd merely waved him off. "-I understand and again, there's no need for formalities. Especially considering I'm the one who called for her ambiguity in the first place."_

_"About that...why send her in the first place? A room full of dukes and nobles, one would think someone such as yourself would fit right in?"_

_The man in black only smirked. "People who assume tend to be sorely mistaken. For the sake of simplicity, let's just say that Tsubaki fits in the crowd far better than I myself could."_

_Having no trouble in keeping conversation, both men quickly became comfortable with each other. Stiff in posture, the lord known as Kidd kept his pleasant smile as his new acquaintance recalled the night before, filling in any details Tsubaki had failed to mention to him. At the same time, Wes raised a brow from behind his little brother as he listened to the man talk so openly, surprised that someone other than himself managed to get more than a few snide remarks out of him. As far as he could tell, only Tsubaki'd had the same effect on the young pianist, though at the time he simply chalked that up to big boobs and a butt._

_Not to say that this elegant-looking man appeared like a bad person, because Wes hadn't the opportunity to make a sound judgment yet. Not when most of his attention was devoted to sneaking looks at the guards standing vigilant next to him, their blades itchy at their sides to be drawn. He eyed their sheathes warily before looking up at one of their faces, the swordsman unfortunately doing the same thing he was; measuring how dangerous they were. Although to be honest, the look in the guard's eye wasn't really the same one he'd received earlier when Soul and him first arrived. Instead, he eyed him sort of...strangely._

_Rude though it was, Wes couldn't break his stare. The guard's gaze locked tightly with his own, no hint of emotion behind those steely, stoic eyes. Seconds passed and still neither man backed down, the level of awkward uneasiness continuing to rise dangerously fast between them. After a certain point, Wes could take it no longer. His eyes immediately darted to Soul, part of him being put at ease by the sight of his brother carrying on with no worries. Kidd's genuine air also helped to calm him, the man's exuding of confidence enough to make anyone around him feel as though nothing bad could happen in his presence._

_Wes shook his head and berated himself for worrying over nothing like a child, before looking to the guard again much more casually than before._

_This time however, he found the lone swordsman grinning back at him; for no apparent reason other than to display the two rows of inhumanly sharp fangs that lined his mouth._

_They couldn't have been natural! What man on earth had teeth as threatening as those, and thirty-two of them no less? For a moment, Wes thought he saw wrong. But as he dwelt on the sight longer and longer, the guard's lips only continued to curl into that devilish grin. All this in utter silence, as Soul and his new friend continued on without either knowing of the terrifying exchange happening right behind them in plain sight. Wes could only stand in frozen witness to the guard as he suddenly decided to approach, thumb fiddling with the hilt of his blade. The distance between them closed in no time at all, much to his horror._

_"You smell good, Grigori." he whispered without blinking, voice rumbling in his chest. "Your brother too, how I wouldn't like to-"_

_"-If you so much as look at Soul with those eyes, I'll gouge them from your head myself!" Wes suddenly shouted, catching the man off guard._

_He wasn't about to take chances; these people were strangers and odd ones at that. Such were the dangers of traveling around the world, often times people were less than savory. This time however was an exception, being so bizarre that Wes was more than willing to let his reputation in front of a Lord falter by loudly interrupting him like that. But his brother was more important than appearances and his safety, along with his own, was Wes' only concern. So when Kidd immediately let his eyes reel towards him and his guard, Soul quick to follow as he spun around, the eldest Evans immediately grabbed hold of his sibling._

_Perhaps if he had waited for a moment to explain to the Lord that his servant was bothering him, things wouldn't have spiraled as quickly as they did. In fact, maybe if he had at least told Soul why he was being dragged along like a child, the man would have been all the happier to get away. But he didn't, and so as he pulled his brother away, two or three steps at the most, Wes failed to see the quick exchange happen behind him; Kidd's escort quickly flashing the man a nasty sneer, the former a look of unbridled fury. Clearly being warned, the servant made it known that he would not be listening to his master._

_Before the Evans Brothers could even clear a few feet, a hand with vice-like grip snatched at Wes' collar. His eyes widened in silence as he was quickly pulled away with little effort, by none other than the second guard whom he had forgotten all about. Soul watched in horror as his brother's hand slipped off him, flung about with the rest of his body like a rag-doll as the towering swordsman threw him to the ground._

_"Brother!" he screamed at the sight; Wes pinned to the ground, thrashing about as Kidd's guard hovered over him. "You son of a bitch, get off him-!"_

_But the man wouldn't listen. And as he struggled to keep Wes from getting up, both a wheeze and drool escaped his lips. "**Stay still so I can fucking eat you already!"**_

_Soul froze for the briefest of seconds; did he just say **eat?** His brother? A cannibal? These men weren't strange, they were perverse! Both swordsman were off their rockers, with Kidd being the only sensible one of the three. The dark lord shouted in what seemed his most intimidating voice he could muster for his servant to stop, but the man atop of Wes wouldn't have it. The other guard only sneered and watched his partner handle things from afar, still feigning loyalty to Kidd even though clearly he was on his buddy's side. In the meantime Soul was caught in the middle, forced to witness his only brother fight for his life right before him._

_There was no way he could leave him, however. In fact, it took Soul only a moment to realize that in their struggle, the swordsman's blade had fallen off his side and onto the floor, placed perfectly there right for the picking. His eyes darted to the thing, then to his brother; the look on his face was that of pure horror, the minstrel's screams to get off him making Soul's blood run cold in fear. Kidd's guard seemed to take only morbid pleasure from his victim's struggle, and fought to pin his arms down in an effort to expose him. Wes was quickly losing control of things, and Soul knew already what had to be done._

_His brother meant everything to him. In contrast, he didn't know this other man. So why would he care if he lived or died?_

_Things happened quickly from there, with time playing out in slow motion from Soul's perspective. Immediately he darted for the weapon on the floor, taking it by the hilt and removing it from its sheath in one fluid motion. The combined noises of Kidd's shouts to stop and his servants heckling rang loud in his ears as he dashed towards the jumble of bodies right in front of him. The distance between him and the guard quickly closed, the latter not noticing his presence from behind as Wes got a clear shot in at the man's face. Everyone was so preoccupied that no one except the other swordsman noticed him, but by then it was too late._

_Because by the time everyone knew what had happened, Wes' predator was already looking down as the blood trickle from his mouth. From out of his stomach, he found an ungodly large chunk of metal sticking out, the rest of it plunged deep into his body as Soul continued to shove the thing in through his back. With wild eyes, the youngest Evans continued to feed the weapon through until the hilt stopped him from going any further, eventually the entire blade revealing itself to its master, soaked in his own blood. The man turned his head, his strength being enough to only see his killer before slumping off Wes' frozen body._

_"Nobody...touches my brother. Nobody." Soul growled shakily, watching as the first man he ever killed slowly fumbled onto the ground._

_Both brothers stunned at the sight, he and Wes looked at the dead body, then at each other. There was a flood of emotions to be seen in their faces, with relief being the biggest one. But there was also a rainbow of others; fear, dismay, guilt, confusion. All these fillings shone in their gray eyes, because neither knew what was going to happen next or even what had just happened right then and there. Someone had tried just tried to eat them, that much was true, but the real question was why. And if not why, then the better question was who; who on earth were these people? This lord dressed in black, and his mysterious swordsman..._

_A swordsman who they'd forgotten all about! Quickly Wes' eyes grew wide at the thought, and soon Soul knew of that same fear plastered across his brother's face. They both realized at the same time that Kidd hadn't stopped shouting, although it had turned more into screams at this point, and the sounds of heavy footsteps were quickly closing in. Fearing another attack, Soul offered his sibling a hand up. The latter took it, scrambling to his feet while at the same gaining the perfect view to his worst nightmare. He gaped at the sight, though his little brother couldn't see it happening._

_"Soul! Get out of the way!"_

_Instead of moving, the pianist only turned. He had no idea what was coming nor how to avoid it, so the best he could do was try to get a bearing on his own. Unfortunately there was no time for analyzing the situation and as soon as he spun around to see what was going on, his eyes immediately stun red with tears. Every fiber of his being screamed bloody murder; his bones ached, his skin crawled, blood flowed like a torrent from his just-born wound. His very existence revolved around the pain he felt as a sword plunged into his stomach and out his backside, skewering him like wild game on the fire._

_Maybe this is what the other swordsman felt like. Those final moments before he killed over, when he looked into his eyes and damned him with such hate and disgust. That's exactly how Soul felt as he looked up into the eyes of his assailant, the inhuman glaze he found reflected in his very soul that made the minstrel realize these men weren't human. They were monsters, demons, anything but human. A human wouldn't turn their blades inside their victim and watch them gurgle in pain. A human wouldn't kick their victim off their blade, and wheeze over them like an animal as they took a bath of their own blood._

_Wes had no time for anything; to scream, to mourn, to cry. He shook with a fire that he'd never felt before and every ounce of it wanted nothing more than to kill anyone and everyone that wasn't his little brother. He wanted to make them feel the pain he felt watching Soul stare up at him, life still in his eyes though only just barely. In his heart, the eldest knew his young sibling was a goner, but he wasn't going to admit that. He couldn't admit that. All he could say to himself was that this man, who hovered over Soul like some sick hunter looking for a trophy, was dead. In every sense of the word, he was going to die. Horribly._

_So he took up the sword that had once been plunged into the other guard and without a word ran at his brother's killer. His own eyes wild with killing intent, he tried desperately to skewer the man as he did to his brother. But Wes was no trained warrior, only a minstrel. And as he came at the lone guard, his attack was easily parried. With continued momentum he kept going forward, left completely open to an attack as the cannibal took advantage of it. A hand, same as before, reached out and grabbed him by the collar, but Wes would have none of it this time. He jerked away and ripped his clothing, hoping to spin around for another go._

_Unfortunately for him, the guard was also through playing games. In a split second, Wes' opponent displayed just how different their power was. With no explanation, the violinist found the swordsman materializing in front of him like a ghost from hell, his weapon cocked back like a rapier. But as he barreled towards his would-be death, Wes wasn't met with the assailant's blade. Instead, a hand reached out to him, pointed, like a corkscrew to a wine-cork. Dodging the unskilled blade of the minstrel, Kidd's guard ducked underneath and plunged his hand into the man's chest. Almost immediately, Wes halted. He dropped his blade, and just stood there._

_It was like he was frozen. Caught in time with no hope of escape, the eldest Evan's eyes grew white as his opponent pulled his hand out of him._

_There in the swordsman's hands was a round little orb, blue and white in color. He sneered in eager anticipation, completely ignoring the crumpled heap of a body that fell down the moment he took the thing from him. Wes came to the ground like a puppet without a master; no life to him, not even a breath. Even in Soul's near-death state, he'd let his head fall to the side and watched everything take place. Horrified at the sight, he closed his eyes and begged for it to just be some bad dream. But the pain in what was once his stomach told the man that things were very real, and that he only had a few more minutes of breath on top of that._

_The guard spared him a taunting glance, as if rubbing it in that there was nothing he could do. Right in front of him, he tossed the little sphere into his mouth and gulped it down, as a giant bulge ran down the length of his throat. Soul's eyes became hollow at the sight; he didn't know what that thing was, but Wes wasn't moving. And the way the guard heaved in satisfaction made what little blood he had left run cold._

_"Souls. Oh god, **Grigori** souls!" he shouted out, cocking his head back to stare at sun. "I can feel it already! The Evans Brothers power, it's mine! Both of them, it's all mine!"_

_If he wasn't already at death's door, Soul would have been sick to his stomach. How quickly things had become so surreal, his own brother laying there motionless as a sack of skin and bones. He didn't know what was going on, but all he needed to know was that Wes wasn't there with him anymore. He was somewhere far, far away, leaving him alone with the madmen that had caused all of this to happen. And there was nothing he could do, no words to say that would have held any meaning. If he could look down at himself he would have, if only to see the gaping hole in his stomach that would soon be responsible for his death._

_His only consolation, unbeknownst to him at the time, was that retribution would come in the form of a terrifying man in black._

_Because the moment he gave up on living, when Soul tossed his head back and let the tears pool in his eyes at the thought of following after his departed brother, was the same time that a curdled screech filled the air around him. So loud was it in fact that even he couldn't ignore it and his limp head immediately flopped to the side, making him witness something that could not be explained, only described._

_The swordsman's arms were being pulled apart, by tendrils of something that came from the ground like geysers of oil. But it was no liquid, more like a solid mass of shadow that seemed to breathe and writhe as it quickly grabbed hold of the guard's feet as well. From the four corners of his body he was pulled and with each passing second his screams became louder and louder as the unrelenting force of four tentacles continued to rip him limb from limb. It was horrific and inhuman, but Soul found no sympathy for him. He couldn't find it in himself to care as bones cracked and popped out of their sockets, in fact, he took a slight satisfaction from it. Whatever was happening to him, the bastard was getting it easy; if Soul'd had the opportunity to, he'd have plunged a thousand swords into his heart, over and over again._

_All the young pianist could do was turn away and close his eyes, somehow knowing when enough was enough. His queasiness came at the sound of flesh being ripped apart, and the sudden halt of those incessant wails. He kept them closed and dared not open them, afraid that if he did, his own death would be drawn out longer. At this point there was nothing left for him, save for the excruciating pain he felt as his essence continued to flow out from him onto the floor. Dizziness came quickly, as did the bright colors he continued to see even behind shut eye lids. Wes' image burned into his brain...he'd be seeing that face again soon..._

_"...Soul. Soul, I'm so sorry."_

_That voice. Kidd? The lord in black? He'd forgotten all about him, but now that he heard that man's voice again, an anger bubbled in the last living parts of him; those were **his **guards that caused all this! Soul couldn't think straight, the wooziness was taking its toll, but there was still a part of him that wanted revenge. It was only a small part of course, because honestly, what more could he do besides lay there and bleed out?_

_"Those men, they were young. This is all my fault, I should have never brought them. They couldn't handle themselves. This entire meeting was a mistake."_

_Still lost in a world of black, Soul, for one reason or another, found it in him to listen to the voice of this man. It was soft yet commanding, and somehow gave him something to hold onto. Like a pillar, it kept the dying man from focusing on the pain and instead on staying alive. At least long enough to hear what he had to say and maybe figure just what the hell happened; how he and his brother had just lost everything in the blink of an eye._

_"Your souls were so powerful, I needed to make sure the rumors were true. But your brother...his was taken. Soul, I'm so sorry."_

_At this, the remaining Evans suddenly gave a painful croak that hung heavy on Kidd's ears. "-My brother is dead, isn't he?_

_"...I wish he were." he heard the dark lord reply after a moment of silence. "Wes' soul was destroyed. Your brother doesn't exist anymore, in heaven or hell."_

_It was at that moment when the world really ended for him. When Soul's only goal was death, not life, and the sooner he disappeared from this earth the better. Eyes still closed, tears quickly started to trickle down his cheeks at the thought of his brother being nothing more than a memory. Wes was his only family, the only person who ever gave a shit about him that was worth something. He never cared if he was good at playing an instrument like his parents were. He never cared how annoying or distant he could be around him. All Wes ever cared about was **him**; he cared about him, cared for him, and even cared enough to die for him._

_And dammit why couldn't it have been him! Why couldn't it have been the less talented of the two, the one with so much less to leave behind if ever he died! The world could go on without one less pianist, but Wes was different. Wes was talented. Wes was needed, so much more than himself. And that bitch called irony! Why was it that he was still alive without a stomach, while even in death his brother had not a scratch on him? Even worse, he wasn't even reachable now; outright erased from existence, by the terrifyingly odd man and his two demons. Three people who remained a mystery, now more than ever._

_"I can still save you, though. I can make your brother's sacrifice mean something." Kidd said quietly, barely above a whisper._

_The mention of Wes snapped Soul out of his thoughts like a thunderclap. Immediately he opened his eyes, finding the lord in black standing over him with his arms held loosely by his side. To Soul's confusion and fright, he noticed the man's pleasant face far different than before. He must truly have been a demon; three solid, black stripes lined his lips, giving Kidd the slight appearance of a skull. In fact, behind him there was a dark aura, as if the silhouette of a skeleton were following him around. He held no expression, the only hint of emotion being in those golden eyes of his. They seemed so doleful, as if genuinely sad._

_When he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice carried like an echo. "I promise to explain everything. All I ask is that you let me take care of you in return."_

_"You're the ones...who caused this in the first place...!" Soul heaved, clutching his gaping wound. "How can I promise that...I don't even know you-"_

_"-All you have to do is promise." Kidd repeated, not looking for an argument. And the moment he said that, Soul wasn't going to give him one._

_The pain might have been what made his spirit waver; did it really matter if he continued on or not? Would Wes would have wanted him to keep going, or for him to go wherever it was he went? Though still stubborn as ever, Soul already knew the answer to that question, and it became apparent to both him and Kidd that his brother would've demanded he keep fighting. That's all they'd ever done since his parents were killed all those years ago, their entire existence was to fight for the right to exist. Two lonely boys just looking to get by, only now that number had been narrowed to one. And it pained Soul, more than any blade could._

_And this person. This demon. Standing in front of him, obviously offering him something too good to be true. Still bathed in shadows and the aura of death, Kidd continued to stare down at him, waiting for an answer. Soul could only stare back with lidded eyes, his energy quickly starting to drain away for good as darkness slowly started to creep into the corners of his vision. They both stayed like this, silent, until after a moment of waiting the dark lord reached his hand out. Palm up, he waited to see if the dying man would take it. Soul waited as well, wondering if he would or not. But eventually his spirit faltered; weakly, he grabbed hold._

_"...Fine. I promise." he said shakily, unable to control his own body any longer. "Just do...whatever it is...you're gonna do!"_

_"Of course. The last thing I want you to do is suffer." the man told him solemnly, reaching for something behind him._

_Soul's hollow stare suddenly forced open at the sight of what Kidd pulled of his back-pocket. There dangled in his hands an intricate looking dagger, full of designs and a strange, curving blade he'd never seen before. It was a beautiful little weapon, but that's not why Soul found himself very much awake. It had more to do with the fact that the man in black suddenly knelt down and grabbed his dirk by the hilt, his other hand cradling this back of his limp head as he pulled him up to his level. At this point, Soul could only remain motionless as Kidd brought the blade to his neck and stared at him. His face was still dead, it was still a skull._

_And that was the last thing he remembered before the bitter sting of pain hit him once more, only this time his consciousness would not be sticking around to let him feel it like his first blade-wound. This time, he couldn't help by cry as Kidd's knife carved itself into his neck, slicing it wide open to let the air out of his lungs. He panicked, letting out a gurgled shout as blood pooled in the back of his throat and his breath quickly became shallow. His eyes became red as scarlet, both from the bitter sting of his own tears and the trauma of having his life ended in a matter of seconds. It was so quick...he thought Kidd promised to save him._

_"It's okay. It'll be alright." he heard the shadowed man say, his voice calming and soft. "There's no pain, not much. It'll all be over in a second."_

_He didn't argue, because he couldn't. Soul's only reaction was a desperate convulsion for air, his final throes as consciousness left him faster and faster. Soon, he couldn't see. Soon after that, he couldn't hear. And so followed his sense of touch, and all the other senses god had given him. Until finally there was only him, in a dark room, with nobody there beside him. Not his brother, not his parents. Not even Kidd. And as he closed his eyes for good in his head, Soul tried one last time to breath in real life. Kidd watched, stoically, as the man in his arms shot him a final glance as his lungs gave up trying._

_He wasn't there anymore, and Kidd knew that. All that remained was Soul's husk of a body, dripping of blood and reeking of the odors of adrenaline. He looked at the sight piteously, before turning his head to look at the man's older brother. His was face down in the dirt, no one having touched him since the guard devoured his soul minutes ago. A swell of anger built up in the dark lord's stomach, and immediately he found it inappropriate if these two siblings weren't together one last time. So he picked up the lifeless body and, for the sake of sentimentality, brought him over to Wes'. He placed them side by side, and propped the eldest Evans up so that he was on his back. After that, Kidd just stepped back and shook his head, wondering of what could have been before having to revive the youngest; Two brothers. Two minstrels. Two very powerful Grigories._

_"Welcome to the family, Soul."_


	28. The Crossroads

Maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her that always wished for it.

A house. Not her house, exactly. Not the one she left behind in Loew, although it didn't really matter exactly which one, so long as she could stay in her hometown. And keep her job. Yes, definitely keep her job as the town librarian. Nobody else could order all those books, let alone intimidate others into bringing them back the way she could. Though maybe she could hire on a little extra help? Just enough to give her some free time during the week, perhaps a newcomer to town like Hiro. True the man was on Soul's blacklist, but Maka knew he wouldn't mind the little twerp assisting her if it meant more time at home.

Because he'd be there. Maybe not all the time, but definitely when she got off work. Or picked up groceries. Or came back from a long walk down dilapidated streets. Really it didn't matter because in the end, Soul would be there like he always was. Waiting for her with a shit-eating grin on his face, acting as if he owned the place when she walked through the door. And of course it'd be her job to put him back in his place with a swift hit of a textbook, square on the crown of his head although, to be fair, she'd be a little bit gentler with him. After all, he'd be living with her. The last thing she needed was to hear him whining.

And after his inevitable bark and her eyes rolling in annoyance, things would settle down. She'd probably sit down with the book she abused him with and start to read it, while Soul would pick himself off the floor and smooth things over like he was so good at doing. Under her breath she would curse the damn Reaper as he wrap his arms around her, whispering for her to lighten up in that lazy growl of his. From then on, two things could happen; either she'd turn around and pummel him again or, if the mood was right, bring him down closer for an intimate embrace. Maybe, if they weren't too tired afterwards, some cuddling.

Deep down though, Maka always knew that kind of life was out of the question. Happiness like that...was a reality fate just wouldn't give Soul.

She just thought that things would turn out different than this. Life might have been a little bleak, but that didn't mean she couldn't bear the burden with him. Right?

Part of her still believed that much, which is why when Kidd thrust his fist into her bodyguard's stomach one last time and caused him to sputter, Maka didn't hesitate. She ran to him, at the same time Lord Grim tossed him away like a sack of meat. No dramatic thud came as he fell to the floor, nor was there any gasps from the Reaper audience that surrounded them. Just Soul on the floor, blood trickling out from his mouth. Maka skidded on the floor, coming to a stop in front of him. Her back towards Kidd, she neither cared nor noticed as he stared at them with a hardened leer. She craddeled Soul in her arms, but not before sparing Kidd a scowl over her shoulder.

"- _ You!"  _ It was all Maka could say. She was so angry that words failed her.

The Grim just stood there, not even acknowledging the empty comment. He instead looked down to examine the gaping hole in his chest, a look of obvious disgust on his face as he found he could see the floor behind him through his torso. Maka meanwhile turned her attention back to Soul; She tried everything to wake him up. Whispering to him, shaking him,  _ slapping  _ him. Nothing worked and for a moment, she wondered if he even had the ability to. But Maka was persistent, and after a few moments of begging under her breath for the Reaper to open his eyes, he finally did. They were distant, however. He wasn't all there.

"Soul, look at me!" she ordered shakily, grasping his cheeks firmly to turn his head. "Say something, anything!"

He blinked a few times. Then, suddenly realizing something, he pulled away from her. "I remember him, Maka. After all these years..."

"Who are you talking about? Who do you remember?" Maka prodded, hoping to keep Soul awake by keeping him talking. To her dismay, he fell silent. "Tell me!"

He just stared up at her. The look in his eyes was pitiful, the kind only found in someone completely broken. Maka tried her damnedest not to shed another tear; Her time to cry was over now. She had to stay strong for his sake. Everything Soul had done up until now had been for her and in comparison, she had barely lifted a finger to help him. All that talk about protecting one another, and she'd failed to live up to her promise. But now things had taken a turn. She didn't care about anything other than standing between Soul and The Grim. Maybe it was a death wish, but at that moment she really didn't care.

"...Get away from me," he mumbled, shaking her to the core. "I've still got things I need to do."

Maka gazed down into a pair of red eyes that had long since lost their luster. Behind them was a face, blank and empty, that barely looked anything like the man she'd come to know. They stared at each other for a second, before Soul started to pull himself off the floor. She tried to push him back down, to keep him safe from Kidd and himself, but the stubborn Reaper wouldn't have it. With a sharp breath, Soul rose with an arm to hold his ribs as Maka did the only thing she could do. Hesitantly the woman held on to steady him. He leaned against her for support.

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself!" Maka growled, red and salt peppering her eyes.

Soul glanced at her. There was no emotion in him. "I can't lose something I don't even have, Maka."

Flustered with anger and confusion, she shook her head. "What do you even mean by that!? Soul, talk to me-!"

_ "-Reapers are born from the souls of the damned. If it wasn't for me, Soul 'Eater' Evans would have been burning in hell a long time ago." _

The couple turned around, finding a sight that immediately made Maka's blood freeze solid. Beaten, bloodied, but still very much fit to fight, Kidd stood at the ready with a familiar weapon in his hands. Scarlet red metal with black for the trim, Soul's scythe stared menacingly at them as Lord Grim handled the blade as if a master of it himself. Meanwhile, its owner could only narrow his eyes at the sight. He gave no reaction, save for the fleeting sad look he gave Maka. She stood there, biting her lip in distress. Confusion reared its ugly head once more, only this time dread accompanied it.

"W-What are you saying...?" Maka stammered quietly. Soul's scythe seemed to mock her with its jagged design, like a laughing clown's grin.

The Grim stared back, golden eyes frigid and unfeeling. "That man? The one you’ve been cavorting with? He’s been dead for two hundred years."

If ever there was a time when words could hurt, it was at that moment. When Maka turned around, eyes wide open, and searched Soul's face for answers. The Reaper stood silent, as others around him either watched in fascination or talked amongst themselves with a certain air of panic. Some questioned what their master was talking about, while those that didn't simply hushed the others and reaffirmed what The Grim had just said; Every single one of them, every last Reaper, was dead. Over and over again it was repeated, spread throughout the crowd like it was a fact that everyone should have known all along. It was obvious, those that knew said.

Because what kind of person doesn't age? What kind of person can do the things they do, like take souls and send them to the afterlife? Or destroy them? Or eat them? Or manipulate the shadows like some kind of demonic weapon to be used against their enemies? Because that's all they were at this point, demons. Monsters born from Hell and sadness, whose only purpose was to serve The Grim in whatever way he requested of them. And they couldn't deny him, because the man was like a father to them now; He gave them life, albeit it a false one. And by that logic, he had the power to take it back from them.

So when Soul did the unthinkable after waiting an eternity to give her a response, Maka couldn't fight that urge to cry anymore.

When the terrifying Reaper from Loew's myth suddenly let his guard down and grinned a misplaced grin, his teeth glowing in the dark of the theater. Her heart broke in two when they looked each other in the eyes, his red ones so much sadder than her own, and with a tight throat told her ' _ I'm Sorry.' _ Immediately, the weight of the situation came down on her like a ton of bricks. She wanted to reach out to him, to wrap her arms around him and tell him that he didn't need to be sorry. That  _ she  _ was sorry for all of this, because all of this had been her fault.

Because Maka didn't care that he was dead. Maybe it was morbid to say so, disgusting even, but she didn't even care. He still breathed, didn't he? Still had a body that felt pain and everything, along with a heart that took in sadness just like her. And to her, he was more alive than The Grim could ever make himself out to be. So by the next second, she was already going to him. She wanted to comfort him, while at the same time hoping to be comforted. Once again, a tiny part of her hoped for the ideal thing to take place, instead of this hell hole they'd been thrown into. But again, it just wasn't meant to be.

"Maka..." Soul croaked, holding his hand out to push her away. "...I promise this changes nothing, but I have a job to do."

She stopped. The Grim, that's right. He was still there, waving the scythe around like he owned it. Soul was completely unarmed now, and Lord Grim still had plenty of fight still in him. Maka looked over her shoulder, finding Kidd still standing there. Only now he looked  _ different  _ from before; the patient, collected face that had been there even during his fight with Soul...it was gone now. Replaced instead with a look that could kill with such cold intent, topped off with a crippled body brimming with silent fury.

And when he talked, it was just as bad. "Your  _ job?  _ Your job was to protect Maka. That was your  _ only  _ job. Your most  **important ** job!  ** _And you couldn't even do that!_ ** _ " _

"I won't sit back and let you scheme anymore!" Soul shouted back in defiance, trying to stand his ground. "I won't let you hurt her, I swear it!"

Kidd just leered over him. He shook his head as if tired of everything. "You think I'd do anything to jeopardize the future of my Reapers?"

At first, Soul simply scowled back at his former master. But as the seconds ticked by, the scorn quickly gave way to confusion. Soul found himself looking to Maka, who in turn looked back at him. They both asked the same silent question; What was Lord Grim talking about? Future of the Reapers? Whatever that meant, it didn't sound good to either one of them. Soul motioned for her to get behind him which, after sparing Kidd one final disparaging look, she quickly did.

The Grim let it happen. Let Soul be the knight in shining armor that would protect the girl. He was sick of it. 

He was tired of silently watching. He was tired of feeling guilty. He wanted nothing more than for things everything to according to plan, but Soul had destroyed everything in an instant. The Grim looked down at his chest and again found that hole there, ironically where his heart should have been. Maybe that was why his patience finally ran out. Why whenever Soul Evans so much as looked at Maka Albarn, a rage he’d never felt suddenly boiled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't take it anymore. Things had spiraled to the point of no return, and they needed to be corrected. He was going to fix his mistakes.

"...I told you I'd killed two men in my life..." Kidd muttered, life slowly disappearing from his face. "...The other was my father, and this is the power I used to kill him with."

Dumbstruck and with no way to defend himself, Soul was forced to watch as Lord Grim demonstrated why he stood above all Reapers. Like something out of a nightmare, he turned into something that no longer looked human. It came slowly; The man's shadow seemed to peel itself off the floor and hover behind him like a specter from hell. Three black, vertical lines appeared on his lips, giving his face the appearance of a freshly cleaved skull. All this was only further complimented by the sudden steeliness of his golden, target-like eyes. Just like two centuries ago, when he killed that Reaper.

Unlike last time, however, it continued. It was something Soul had never seen before, and he gaped in horrific awe as The Grim's body became encased in darkness itself. His shadow enveloped him, covering him like a cloak that hid every part of him save for his face. And where his face was, there formed a terrifying skull. Like a mask, it covered him to the point where there was no exposed part; every part of Kidd was hidden, no weak point on any square inch of his skin. The skull, though...that’s what told Soul that whatever Kidd had planned, it was the end.

"What the hell is that…!?" His whole body shook, as did Maka's. They watched The Grim raised his scythe into the air.

He pointed it at Soul. The skull mask weighed him. Judged him. Kidd said only one thing before bringing his blade to the ground,  _ “Hunter…!” _

He was behind Maka now. She froze. Her head turned slowly to find him there. Somehow, someway, in an instant he'd cleared that much ground. Facing away from her, knelt to the floor, his cloak and mask disappeared as quickly as they had come. The scythe in his hand was nowhere to be seen. Maka held her breath as she tried to figure out what just happened, but her question was quickly answered when in front of her came a gurgle. Then a wheeze, and finally a sputter before Soul collapsed to the floor. 

She stared at the floor. Soul lay there, black suit soaked like a towel with his own blood. It just kept coming, there was no end to it. Maka tried to scream. She couldn’t. 

In a panic Maka landed on the floor next to him. She flipped him over, but immediately regretted it when she found the source of the bleeding; An empty crevice, carved diagonal into Soul's torso. Blood gushed uncontrollably from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hip, and with it went Soul's ability to speak. He just stared up at her with dying eyes, not necessarily pained, but surprised. Maka tried to say something, anything, but before the words could even make it past her lips things ended right then and there. 

His scarlet eyes went glazed over. A shuddered breath escaped him. Then, nothing.

No color. No heartbeat. No breathing. No Soul. 

Kidd remained there kneeling, face buried in his chest until those final moments when he heard Maka's confirming screech. Like he'd been waiting for her to let him know when Soul had passed, The Grim picked himself off the floor and simply stood there. Not turning around, not saying a word, he just stood there as if soaking in his enemy's defeat. All the while, Maka's cries echoed throughout the theater, so pained that even a few of the Reapers watching couldn't help but feel sympathy. Just the sight of her sitting there with the white Reaper's head in her lap, it was enough to make anyone piteous.

"-Soul!? Dammit, Soul! Wake up! Please, wake up!" she repeated over and over, her forehead against his in a desperate plea for life. "For the love of god,  _ please wake up! _ "

He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. He was The Grim's strongest! His equal! All the stories she'd heard about him, all the rumors that had convinced her he was unstoppable, it was all bullshit! Soul wasn't a god, he never was. And she never wanted him to be…! She never wanted him to be anything more than Soul! That's why all this had happened! She'd made him soft! If they never met he'd still be alive, still be that terrible creature that everyone feared. She'd never know him but...at least he'd still be watching over her. From afar, like some sort of twisted, red-eyed angel.

Tears strung down her face, dripping from her cheeks down into the bloody valley on Soul's chest. They flowed like a river as she pleaded incessantly for him to wake up and get back to work. Soul had said it himself; He still had a job to do. She needed a bodyguard, and not just any bodyguard, but him. He was the only one who would do and the only one she would accept, the only man she'd let get that close to her and, though part of her still wouldn't admit it, the only person who could turn her to complete mush with just a smile. That's why he needed to wake up. She needed him.

"He already died once, I just finished the job," Kidd muttered as he started to walk away, disgusted at the sight. "That's my strength, my curse. The power to kill whoever I want, however I want."

Maka didn't listen to him. She couldn't, not when she shook with such intensity that every bone in her body was close to shattering. All of her attention was on the lifeless man in her arms, his eyes still sickeningly open like some kind of cruel joke. As if at any moment, life would rush into them and he'd hop to his feet, defeat Kidd, and everything would go back to normal. Maka heaved at the thought; She wished for it so bad.

It wasn't going to happen. She knew that much, but even so...she could hope. Soaked in Soul's blood, Maka curled into a ball with him and pretended for a few seconds that he was still alive, still able to hear her speak. She whispered into his ear, telling him all the things they'd once he woke up. They'd go back to Loew and find a house together. She would come up with a reason why they'd been gone for a few months with no explanation and then settle down as if nothing happened. They could go down to the creek and swim, or take a walk through the forest and get lost on purpose, or both. Because why not? They'd be far away from Death, from Kidd, and wouldn't have to answer to anyone...

They'd read a book together. Or she would read to him, at least, because he wasn’t one to join a book club. Soul would learn how to hunt and fish, because that's what all the men in Loew ever did besides lounge inside their homes and relax. And maybe, just maybe, they could find a piano somewhere. Raggedy or new, it didn't matter just so long as it was playable. Then at night, when the day was over and his hair turned bright white again, Soul could play it for her. Whatever the piece, she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the he was there, with her, and nobody else.

"...So please! I know I'm being selfish again but  _ please! _ " Maka begged one last time, shaking her head against his in desperation. " _ Don't leave me!" _

All of this Lord Grim watched, his exit long since postponed at the sight of the girl he'd been fighting over give herself to a dead man. He could only narrow his eyes in pity, knowing that Maka's pleas would never make it through to Soul. The white Reaper was dead, his scythe gone along with the soul it was made out of. Maka seemed to realize the futility of it all as well as her continued sobs only grew louder, the sound of which finally convinced Kidd to turn around and head for the exit. He would send Tsubaki to clean up the mess and return Maka to him. Hopefully there was something he could do to calm her, although it would definitely take some time-

-There came a wave of gasps. The Grim paused. He spared a glance over his shoulder, and immediately his eyes widened.

Kidd turned, his body overtaken as if by some unnatural force. Perhaps it was this same force that enveloped Maka at that very moment, her pupils empty with green as part of her seemed possessed by a bright, white light. Her entire body was enveloped in it, brighter than anything found in the city of Death. And all the Reapers in their crowd shielded their eyes, most of them having never seen the sun before in their lives let alone this white cloak that rivaled daylight. It shrouded Maka Albarn like a mirror image of Lord Grim’s own shadowed cloak; For a moment it just hung there, not doing anything.

But then when it traveled up her back and jetted from her shoulder blades, Kidd realized immediately what it was. When the light seemed to become solid, forming the rumpled look of what seemed like thousands of feathers, The Grim's face mixed into shades of excitement and scorn. It's what he'd been waiting to see for what seemed like years; Maka bathed in light, two distinct wings that erupted from her like an angel's. But it wasn't under the circumstances he wanted, not the situation he'd calculated in his head and was sure would have worked out as such.

The two wings disappeared as quickly as they came, turning back into light that traveled down Maka’s arms and into the lifeless corpse she held onto for dear life. The entire time she was too shocked to say or do anything. Whatever was happening with this light, it seemed to be doing the unthinkable. Were...Soul's eyes starting to turn brighten? No one could believe it, especially not Kidd as he continued to stand idly as the light enveloping Maka flow into his rival like a torrent. After a certain point, it completely left the woman and instead covered Soul, painting the Reaper's whole body as white as his snow capped head.

Kidd didn't know how to respond. "All this time, you finally resonate and...it was with someone else?"

His question went unanswered. Maka couldn't hear him, her focus on the miracle happening in her arms as Soul's wounds started to close. The tiniest scratches healed immediately, while bones cracked as they set back into their original places. The biggest gashes sealed the slowest, though eventually they too healed completely. Only the giant cut into his torso remained, though not nearly as bad as it had been. She could no longer see into his body like a window, eerily similar to The Grim's wound. But his injury was still severe by the time the light disappeared completely.

The thing was though...Soul was alive. Maybe still hurt, but the moment that the color returned to his eyes, Maka swore she saw him blink. And from the sight of his chest rise she knew that he was breathing, albeit it shakily and out of rhythm. She looked down at him, his eyes now closed despite having been open this entire time, and for the first time since Kidd's attack she felt hope. That and of course utter confusion.

Just what the hell was that just now? What had happened? Had she just grown  _ wings  _ for a second? And even before that, what was that light that surrounded her and Soul? So many questions but so little time to ask them, because part of her was still shaking with excitement over Soul's sudden recovery. The other part was too preoccupied watch Lord Grim take long strides towards her, his menacing air from before still very much present. But Maka wasn't going to screw up this time, she wasn't going to let Kidd anywhere near Soul. No matter what, she'd do whatever it takes. If he wanted to kill her, then-!

"-I will let Soul Evans live one more time." Kidd declared firmly, noticing the shock in Maka's face. "But from now on, his place is in the desert. And yours is with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing sucks.


	29. The Fated Encounter

_"Oh, it's been years since I've seen that face. When The Grim takes my property, very rarely does it ever come crawling back to me like this."_

The room was dark. Perhaps, it wasn't even a room at all. Really all he could see was darkness; a never-ending void that went on forever in all directions, with no trace or sign of any landmark or feature to be seen anywhere. He stood in the middle of it, tattered suit and everything although for some reason he felt no pain. The gash across his chest was stitched, sutured perfectly as if done by a professional. Soul looked down at his hands, blood still clinging to them though caked and cracking. In front of him the voice continued, its owner nowhere to be seen in the fresh hell he found himself in.

_"For some reason he let you live again, though he's stripped you of your rank as a Reaper. I must say, that's a first even for me. You seriously pissed him off this time."_

"Who the hell's there? I can't see anything..." he called out to the void, hoping someone would answer back. Thankfully, he wasn't talking to himself.

_"Evans, my boy, I'm hurt you don't remember me. Though I suppose there's no way you can, what with me not showing my face like a stalker."_

No sooner had those words echoed throughout the place did a faint image start to materialize right before Soul's eyes. Like a figure walking towards him from the distance, a distinct body slowly became more solid as the darkness seemed to split for a moment in its presence. Soon a pair of horns became apparent, followed by giant eyes that glowed bright white. An ebony suit, different from the one he wore, somehow stood out against the blackness of their surroundings. All this complimented by skin that bled the color scarlet, so vibrant that it looked like he'd painted it on himself.

In the end, Soul didn't know what to think of this person who stood with him. His face remained calm as always, however his insides were twisting at the thought of another fight. But there was no malice in the strange man's eyes, nor was there anything comforting about him either. He simply existed, in the darkness or of it, and this was his domain. Wherever he was, Soul was at this monster's mercy.

"Who are you?" he asked firmly, looking the person over as he did.

The man in turn only smiled. "_I'm the demon who brokered your soul all those years ago."_

"What does that mean?" Soul asked immediately. "I still don't remember you, and I don't know what you're saying."

_"Simply put, The Grim isn't as all powerful as you Reapers make him out to be. He's far from a god, simply another creature like you or me."_

From out of his coat pocket, the man pulled out some kind of ball. He looked at it before sneering a bit, and tossed the thing away from him to Soul who caught it without effort. Out of curiosity he examined it, and found it to be something he was all too familiar with; a soul. But two things stood out to him that made the man weary, one of which being the state of the soul itself. It was somewhat tan in color, with cracks throughout it like dried earth from the desert. The orb was hot to the touch as if it had just come out of an oven, and Soul could only hold onto it for a few moments before letting it drift in the air.

It was a Soul Eater's soul. Theirs were always strange, even when compared to those belonging to other Reapers. But that wasn't the main reason why he felt so strange, more like it was the absence of a certain something that had him scratching his head; why wasn't he hungry? This was a soul, ripe for the taking, and there wasn't so much as a rumbling in his stomach let alone an uncontrollable urge to eat it. He'd never felt so..._not empty _before, like a pit inside of him had been sealed up tight. Soul looked at the red-man with horns and found him smirking in amusement at his confusion.

Looking back to the floating orb again, he narrowed his eyes. "That still doesn't answer my question, demon."

_"Nothing gets past you, Evans."_ the man stated proudly, before continuing, _"It was a sad day in hell when I had to pawn off your soul to him."_

"I'm guessing you mean that Kidd took it from you to make me a Reaper, right?" Soul deduced quickly, noticing the demon's bitter scowl at the thought.

_"Yes, that's how these transactions work. The Grim offers collateral in exchange for a soul, and I give it to him. Although your Grigori soul was significantly more valuable than the other trash in hell."_

The once-Reaper focused back onto the soul floating in front of him, not at all liking the way his life had been reduced to simple monetary terms. But there wasn't room in him to be bitter, not when he continued to wonder what had changed about him. Something was off, and he could feel it in his very being. Perhaps it had something to do with having his rank stripped from him, but that couldn't explain everything. Like for instance, he felt this strange urge to want to touch the soul in front of him, like it belonged in his hands. Not even to eat it like he normally would have, but just to touch it.

_"And to answer your inevitable question, that sad, pitiful looking soul belongs to you, Evans. Tainted just like all the other soul eaters, Reapers who feasted on too many Grigori souls and became mad."_

His eyes widened; so that's how Soul Eaters came to be. He'd never known how one became a Reaper much less one that ate souls, but he wasn't expecting that. Did the others know about this, or was he the only Reaper that was oblivious to everything? And if so, why hadn't anyone stopped him from turning into a sharp-toothed, white haired monster like that? Because surely those were the side effects, since he was born and killed with brown hair and gray eyes, not these red ones that everyone always cowered from. Could Grigori souls really be so powerful as to change a person's very being? It made his head hurt just thinking about it, what with all this talk about these special humans and their special powers. Enrique with his turning Blair into a panther, then of course Maka and her wings-

-And that's when everything suddenly stopped for him. The demon didn't matter, not even his soul that hovered right in front of him. All he could do was stop and gape at the thought of Maka and The Grim, and how for some reason he wasn't in the theater anymore. Where was everybody? Where was _he? _And was Maka alright!? Goddammit, he wasn't with her! He had to protect her!

"Where is she!?" Soul barked, almost rabid in his tone. "Tell me where she is right now or I'll rip you open!"

With an uninterested stare, the demon remained unfazed. _"That girl? She's with The Grim. Has been for the past few days, while you lay wallowing like some injured puppy."_

Soul flinched, unable to comprehend just how much time had passed since he'd lost consciousness. "Just what the fuck do you want from me?"

The red-skinned man finally smiled back, not hesitating to walk towards his angered guest. Soul watched him warily, ready to swing at the man if he so much as thought about doing something sneaky. But the demon did nothing more than snatch that floating soul away from him and hold it up for both of them to see. He let the once-Reaper stare at it for a second, before the orb in his hands suddenly changed into something completely different. No longer was it sickly looking, or tan in its color. The cracks filled almost immediately, leaving nothing more than a perfectly round, blue orb.

And he released it, letting it float to Soul who allowed it to drop gently down into his hands. Immediately he noticed that it was no longer hot, not like it had just barely escaped from the depths of hell. In fact it was cool, _soothing _even, and he didn't want to let it go. He'd only felt this way once before, and the thought depressed him to the point of anger; only Maka could make him feel the way he felt now.

_"I've fixed your soul to its original state, which means you no longer feel the need to feed on them. And since you're a Grigori that means your latent resonance will start to resurface as well."_

Soul looked at the orb, then at the demon. Both seemed so inviting, but he knew there was a catch. "Nobody would just do something like this for free. What's your angle?"

_"Your soul," _he said simply as if stating the weather. "_The Grim has denounced you, therefore your soul is up for grabs. The day you die, I want it back."_

"And why would I do something like promise my soul to a demon? You're an idiot if you think anything you do or say could convince me."

The demon gave a knowing smile. _"I can give you the power to save the girl, Evans. Maybe even enough to **kill The Grim**_**.**_"_

Soul looked the red-skinned man over and stared, no emotion to his face but an obvious glint in his eyes. And just like that, the seed had been planted; the demon just smiled back, convinced that this Reaper would come around eventually. But he didn't press the matter, and instead took to backing away slowly from him. Soul meanwhile panicked somewhat, thinking for a moment that he had to make a decision now while he still had the chance. However, as the man in black continued to walk away he simply waived his finger in the air and motioned for him to remain calm. All in due time.

_"Before you promise anything, I'll leave you for now. But don't worry, I'll be back. And hopefully by then you'll accept my offer, since that girl's life isn't the only one you need to worry about."_

On that note, he started to fade back in the blackness from which he came. Soul watched him as he went, still unsure of both himself and this offer that had been presented to him. In a matter of seconds he was gone, disappeared into the void leaving the white Reaper to his mountain of concerns and confusion. All he could do was look down at the blue orb in his hands and wonder just how something so small could be the cause of all of this drama, a simple Grigori soul like Maka's that everyone wanted and were willing to fight and kill over. It made no sense to him, but then again it didn't have to.

He'd find her. Even if it meant rotting in hell for all eternity, it didn't matter so long as she was safe. Part of him seriously considered the demon's offer, while the other part knew it wasn't something to take lightly. But even knowing all that, two things kept nagging at the back of his head; one of them being if it was even possible for him to die again. After all he'd lived two lifetimes and hadn't aged a bit, so could he expect the same thing to happen now? Or had Kidd taken away more from him than merely his status? Was he vulnerable now, weaker even? He couldn't afford it. Soul needed to be at full strength.

And the other thing, the thought that kept him guessing until the darkness around him started to give way to the light...

...Who else needed saving?

* * *

The faint sounds of laughter are what drew him out of his sleep.

Before he even opened his eyes, Soul knew there was a bright light. It filtered through his eyelids, almost like facing directly at the sun. But when he awoke all he found to greet him was an obnoxiously bright lamp focused directly on him, that and the unbearable heat it gave off. The man growled in annoyance, shaking his head as he pulled himself up from what looked like an examining table. Before doing anything else, he flicked the lamp away and let himself become adjusted to the significantly darker space around him. There was nothing he could see, save for a cracked door with a light on the other side.

People were talking just beyond it and one of them sounded familiar, but he couldn't focus on it. Still woozy, Soul let his dangling feet touch the floor, its iciness making him flinch after having just come out from under the hot lamp. He quickly adjusted to it however and slid off from the table, getting a better bearing as he stretched himself out for the first time in days. Soon he was walking normally, towards the inconspicuous door and its light and laughter. Wearily he grabbed the handle, not sure what to expect but fairly certain it wasn't The Grim. With a shrug he let it swing open and peeked outisde.

The place was...nice. Homey. A little bit like Maka's place in Death, though more lively. For instance, there were things like pictures; in modest frames, either hanging on the walls or above a fireplace that looked like it had seen little to no use. Comfortable furniture was spread throughout, and even the color of the room itself seemed so inviting that Soul felt at ease just being there. The only thing off about all of it was the floors. Everywhere he looked, there were arrows pointing to different rooms of what he assumed was someone's house. Then again, some of their chairs looked odd. Were those stitches?

He lingered for a few minutes, before the sounds of more laughter filled the room again. Immediately Soul faced the door to the left, knowing that's where it was coming from. That easiness quickly left him as a brow rose on his face, his suspicions getting the better of him as he walked towards it to see who was there. Again hesitating for a moment as he grabbed hold of the knob, Soul eventually swung it open. And what he found, for a second he couldn't believe; two women, talking and laughing over a bowl of rice, though one of them was clearly not in a position to be doing so.

The one in a ponytail, she turned to him and immediately beamed. "Soul! Oh thank god you're alright! How are you feeling?"

"Tsubaki?" Soul blinked, unable to stop looking between him and this new blonde stranger. "I'm fine but...why are you all tied up like this?"

She was completely bound, her arms tied behind her so tight by the wrists that it was a wonder she could even move. And her feet were just was secure, thick rope knotted into a bow around her ankles that made sure she wouldn't escape from whatever kind of prison she found herself in. To top it all off, a scarf around her neck told him that Tsubaki had recently been gagged, probably unable to speak.

But above everything else, the woman looked completely unfazed. In fact, it looked like she and her captor were...having conversation? And...she was feeding her rice no less? Soul didn't know what to say, so badly that he took to scratching the back of his head like a dolt. This other woman, whom he noticed wore an eye patch, looked between him and Tsubaki before breaking into giggles herself. Tsubaki too, only she seemed a bit confused at first. Like she didn't know what he was talking about...like she didn't even _notice _she was tied up and gagged in the first place.

"Oh, this? Nothing to worry about!" Tsubaki replied rather chipper. "They just did this because I'm a Reaper. Just a precaution. They're really quite nice, actually."

"Nice?" Soul looked to the other woman, still lost. "So I'm guessing you're the one who patched this hole in my chest up?"

"Me? Oh, no, sorry. That wasn't me, although I did help! That's my job, I'm an assistant around here. My name's Marie." the woman explained, her smile even more colorful than Tsubaki's.

"Well, if you weren't the one who did my stitches, who did-?" he started to ask, before suddenly getting the nagging suspicion that somebody was behind him.

Soul turned around, already expecting to find a person standing there. But immediately he flinched at the sight of a man, taller than himself, donning a white lab coat with stitching all along its fabric. The lines were unruly and chaotic, appearing wherever they pleased. And not only on his clothing but along his face as well, a diagonal line of stitches across his skin that seemed to have no purpose whatsoever. What's more, the thing that really got Soul's attention was the giant, metal _screw _sticking out from this bizarre man's head. The stranger messed with it, turning it in his skull until an audible _click _could be heard.

"Professor Franken Stein," he said distantly, more preoccupied with the burning cigarette in his mouth than anything else. "It's a pleasure."

For some reason, the white Reaper found himself slightly nervous around this man. "Stein? That name sounds familiar, aren't you-?"

"-Your friend here brought you to us half-dead, you should thank her," he cut him off, before turning to walk away.

As quickly as he came, the professor in a lab coat disappeared into the adjacent hallway, leaving Soul to stand there in silence while Tsubaki and Marie watched from behind. He turned to face them, more confused than ever although his friend's strange predicament just made matters even worse. Above all else, the blonde with an eye patch motioned for him to sit down, which he did after tossing the bound Tsubaki and awkward glance. She gave that beaming smile like she always did and Soul warily gave in, eyeing the woman next to him as he took his seat and was offered a bowl of rice. He accepted.

"You'll have to excuse him, he's not very welcoming to begin with," Marie sighed, fixing the plate for him.

Soul turned to look at the hallway, staring at where the man had been standing. "Professor Stein...the hermit of Needle Village?"

"Hermit?" the woman blinked, giving him his dinner. "No one around here's ever called him that. The locals just call him by his name, or professor."

Tsubaki spoke up. "Oh, that's how Reapers refer to him in Death, Ms. Mjolnir. He's really quite famous there, The Grim calls him the strongest human alive."

At least that's what the stories were. Perhaps not the prime example of physical strength, still Franken Stein had the dubious honor of being on Lord Grim's black-list. Few could lay claim to that, Soul mused as he poked at the food in front of him, except for the Azure Knight and himself of course. Without the special powers like the Grigories that inhabited Needle Village, Professor Stein was infamous for being able to kill Reapers with his own bare hands. No resonance, no shadow summoning, nothing. Only his brains, and perhaps whatever strange things he concocted in that lab of his.

But the more he thought about it, the less things started to make sense. Stein wasn't his enemy, he wasn't anyone's enemy; besides killing Reapers, he was just as well known for playing the spectator. The middle man, the pacifist, always staying neutral and never picking sides, his only aim being to further his research about whatever he was interested in at the time. If that meant picking apart a few of The Grim's followers in self defense, then so be it. All of this added up to a man that, more than likely, wouldn't have helped him. And what's more, how did he even wind up here? Exactly, where was here...?

Then it clicked. Stein. Hermit. Needle Village. _He was in Needle Village._

His head couldn't shoot up fast enough. "Tsubaki, you need to tell me everything that happened. Do you know if Maka's alright? Jackie? Harvar?"

"Maka...she's safe, in a sense." The Night Stalker squirmed in her bindings. "With Kidd, at Gallows Manor. I didn't get a chance to see Jacqueline or the others."

"And you? How did you bring me here? I'd have thought the bastard was going to leave me to die again." Soul growled, more to himself than Tsubaki. Her face grew red.

"Lord Grim banished you, and told me to leave you in the desert dead or alive but...I couldn't! So I, well, brought you to the only place I could think of, and they took care of you."

Soul stared at her for a moment, the worry and relief clear in her face for the first time since he sat down. It was hard to see what with her always smiling, all of it just being an attempt to stay the calm, supportive Tsubaki he'd always known. Part of him felt guilty at the sight of her, which is why he took to looking over Ms. Mjolnir across from him instead. She on the other hand gave him a timid smile, as if trying to comfort him although not having a clue as to why. Clearly she knew very little of what was going on, and what little Tsubaki had told her must have been when he interrupted their conversation.

While not even ten minutes ago his only goal was to get back to Maka, he realized there were other things to worry about as well. For one thing, fixing the damages his and Kidd's fight had caused. Another was figuring out where his friends were, because they must have all been scattered after he was banished. And since Tsubaki was already here, having helped save him no less, he could at least do one of those things. Without a word, he motioned to Marie, who somehow already knew what he was thinking. She in turn looked at Tsubaki, then at the ropes around her wrists and ankles, and nodded firmly.

He went over to his friend and took a knee, the latter surprised when he started to remove the bindings from her. Soul smirked when she finally pulled free and smiled warmly at him, grateful for the gesture and also for Ms. Mjolnir finally showing some trust in her. The white Reaper got back up and held his out for her to take, wearing that devil toothed grin she hadn't seen from him in quite some time.

"We've got work to do. Maka's waiting for us and so are the others."

Tsubaki nodded in determination, her chest swelling up with confidence. She took his hand and grinned back. Marie found the scene touching and smiled, the three of them seeming to be stuck in a brief moment of respite. But before anyone could say another word, the moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind them. The trio turned, wondering if Professor Stein had walked in yet again, though the only person they found standing there was a young man.

Blue hair, spiky like Soul's own. Well built arms, finely toned and trained for brutal attacks. On his shoulder a tattoo, shaped like a star although through it was a deep scar that looked like it had come from a blade. He stood eye level with the two Reapers, perhaps just an inch or two shorter, and the look in his eyes could be described only as murderous. Right away Soul knew he was in for a fight, when that moment came where this total stranger came up to him after flashing a look Tsubaki's way. He grabbed him by the collar and brought his face in close, half hidden by a scarf the color of sand.

"You _bastard!_" he growled, voice somewhat higher than it should have sounded. "Who said you could put your hands on my woman!"

The white Reaper didn't know what to say, though if he could talk it would have been somewhere along the lines of '_what the hell are you talking about?'_ For a moment the two stayed frozen, until for some reason he thought to look down at his hand. Still wrapped around Tsubaki's, Soul put two and two together. He let out a groan, knowing that things were about to get out of hand. Tsubaki's face gave her confusion no justice, as Marie simply buried her head in her hand and moaned for Stein to come back; she didn't have the patience to handle him this time, and it was his turn.

Thus was the first meeting between the White Reaper and Azure Knight. From that day onward, Lord Grim's desert would never be the same again.


	30. The Reason

Maka glanced at the plate of food set before her, the glass of wine right next to it looking anything but appetizing.

Words had no way of describing just how poisonous her mood was at the moment. Four straight nights, she'd thrown up after waking. Nerves, nightmares, and pure disdain for the man who held her at Gallows Mansion were just a few of the things that kept Maka's stomach from settling for even just a moment. The image of Soul, in every possible scenario, kept playing through her head over and over again, like some sick broken record that never failed to remind her just how badly she missed him. 

All of it was her fault, though there was little choice at the time. 

It was either go with Kidd, or be forced to watch Soul die again.

With such an option, it wasn't difficult to see why things had turned out the way they did. Her lover, friend, bodyguard, tossed into the desert and left to die there, by one of her closest friends no less. Tsubaki had come seemingly out of nowhere, from the shadows as she always did, and at Lord Grim's request took the white Reaper away from her without so much as looking back. 

Soul was in good hands and Maka knew that, which is why when the two disappeared in a flash of black, she didn't worry; didn't care that Kidd took her by the hand and escorted her away like nothing happened, when clearly so much had.

Tsubaki wouldn't let anything happen to Soul, no matter what The Grim told her. She was loyal, not heartless, and Maka knew that she didn't have to worry about his safety anymore. She'd bite the bullet if it meant Soul was safe, a small speck in comparison to what he had done for her. So these past few days of captivity had gone rather well for Lord Grim; she had become the definition of an honored guest. Although the most she ever did was sit away in her room and curse aloud for all to hear, it never failed that the Reaper servants there would come at her every beck and call. So attentive, but Maka knew it was because Kidd had ordered it.

And this food set out before her was practically the only form of sustenance she'd received so far, though even now she had a hard time even looking at it. The Grim wasn't starving her. At every opportunity, he'd send someone with a plate of the finest foods she'd ever seen. But just the sight of it was like charcoal in her mouth, and every time they brought it she sent them away with full hands. Especially now, her appetite wasn't with her. Not when the only two people in attendance were Kidd and herself, facing each other across a decently sized table with even more delicacies that she'd only ever read about in books.

What's more, for some reason, tonight was the night he wanted to start conversation with her. So far, she knew it hadn't worked out the way he wanted to. Small talk was the least of her worries, and the awkward air that quickly filled the silence only furthered her distance from him. So strong was the uneasiness that Kidd even took to doing the unthinkable; very calmly and without warning, he began to reveal bits and pieces of information to her. 

Maka looked up at him, finally, when Lord Grim explained to her how Reapers like Soul are made. And not only that, but why he in particular was so strong compared to everyone else.

"Evans consumed more Grigori souls than anyone before him or since." Kidd detailed clearly, his plate of food long since untouched. "I made sure of that."

Interest piqued, Maka sat straight in her chair. She didn't like the way he said that last part. "What do you mean,  _ you made sure of that?" _

The Grim took his fork and skewered a slice of meat, not even bothering to eat it. "I fed them to him. I suppose you could say I created him in a way."

Just like that, the awkward air of the dining room turned to bitter tension. Kidd noticed immediately, and he realized that his words had struck a chord with Maka; she had no trouble making clear her anger towards him. Like flipping on a switch, her calm demeanor turned foul with a bitter scowl as she rose up from her chair without a sound. Lord Grim watched, speechless, as Maka rounded the table towards him without so much as a sound. That look, it could kill. And the closer she came to him, the sooner Kidd realized that's what she wanted.

"Maka, you have to understand that-"

For once in his life, Lord Grim was the one silenced. With an open palm and unbridled fury, the woman who'd caught Eater's affection proved she could take care of herself. For a moment, Kidd's head remained fixed like a statue. A red mark lay across his face where she'd slapped him, so hard that he'd actually lost his senses for a brief second. Now as he quickly regained himself however, the only thing that hurt was his pride. The Grim, put in his place by a simple human. Unfathomable, though he wasn't upset. Surprised, shocked even, but not upset. Even as she fumed next to him, Kidd tried to remain as calm as possible.

_ "You son of a bitch!" _ Maka hissed, green eyes singed with malice. "Do you realize what he's gone through because of you?"

Lord Grim looked up at her, touching the spot where she'd smacked him gingerly. "A hundred years ago, Evans-"

"-Soul's always afraid that he'll lose control, that he'll eat my soul! People treat him like a freak! A monster!"

"I realize that, and I sympathize. But what I'm trying to explain to you is that I'm not the one who-"

Kidd was cut off again, and this time his eyes narrowed. "All of it was for you! You selfish, egotistical sack of crap! I wish you'd burn in hell and-!"

**"MAKA!" **he bellowed, jumping to his feet so quickly that she nearly fell backwards. **"I'm not the one who wanted them! It was** **_him!"_**

It echoed throughout the room, those damning words that finally silenced Maka's rant. He grabbed her by the wrists, keeping the woman in place as he stared through her soul with gold, burning eyes. She only stared back, shock slowly creeping across her face while Kidd continued to tower over her with this sudden authority that he hadn't had before. His tone, his demeanor, it wasn't the gentle host that she'd seen the past four days; The Grim was back, title and all, and she was back to being forced into submission. For what seemed like too long he glared at her, and not till he released her did she back away.

"Evans was my personal guard." Kidd spat, turning away to look disdainfully at his plate. "He wanted power, the kind of power to always serve me. So I gave it to him."

Maka watched as Lord Grim plucked an apple from a goblet on the table and scowled at it, an emotion she couldn't quite describe ripping through him like a fire. Then the next moment, he surprised her yet again by throwing the thing at the corner of the room, shaking his head in disgust as a thud could be heard soon after. All of this, and Maka could barely process it as it came. She was still stuck on the concept of Soul...doing something like that. The thought made her sick, almost ill, but reason kept her steady. Everything needed to be taken with a grain of salt with him. After all, the man wasn't to be trusted.

But it was so hard to keep that in mind, when the entire time Kidd kept making her question whether or not he was faking it. Just the way he returned to his seat and let his head fall on a hardened fist, she could tell that his anger was genuine. And he didn't even try to look at her anymore, instead taken to leering at empty space before him in contemplation. It startled Maka when she realized that she'd seen such a face before; back in Loew, when Soul was asked about The Grim. Almost the exact same way, he'd taken up a chair and exuded such bitterness that they didn't talk for the rest of the night.

This not-knowing was killing her. She'd had enough. "What happened between you two? Why do you hate him so much?"

Kidd finally looked up at her, emotionless. "Evans was the closest thing I ever had to a friend, and I always  _ despised  _ him for it."

"...I don't understand. What kind of person would hate someone like that?" Maka mumbled, shaking her head in confusion.

"The Grim can't afford to be attached to anything. I have a duty," he replied monotonously. "Evans lost his memory due to the souls. I took advantage of it."

"In what way? Treating him like dirt so he'd feel the same about you?” Maka sank into him. “No matter what you say to me, you're still just a sad man with petty reasons."

Rubbing his face, Kidd reached for a glass of wine in front of him and swirled the drink in his hand. "It's much easier to hate someone who hates you back, Maka."

He spared it another glance before swilling the alcohol away as if it were water. Maka wanted to say more, but she thought against it and bit her tongue. Lord Grim was drained, and it showed through in his face, his shoulders. She had no idea how to respond to such a sight, this inhuman person suddenly seeming human. All Maka could do was spit dryly and pull up a chair adjacent to him, being sure to keep her distance despite Kidd's openness. Hate still oozed through her, but it was best to let the moment pass and save her strength, especially since all this commotion wasn't helping her stomach any.

So the two of them remained silent for a time, awkwardly at first, which then gave way to calm. Emotions eased, and Kidd slowly regained his composure as Maka finally found it in her to halfheartedly pick at a plate of food in front of her. It helped, just enough to settle this queasiness that had been with her for most of the week. Meanwhile, The Grim sucked in air and pulled himself off the chair. Maka paid him no mind, even when he went over to the corner of the room and picked up the apple that had been thrown earlier. She didn't care what he did at this point, so long as it didn't involve her in any way. Though the thought was hardly comforting, and as Kidd returned to his seat a whole new set of questions were mounting in the back of her throat, things she'd make him answer here and now.

"What am I even doing here." she said absently, more of a statement than anything else.

Her host surprised her by answering immediately, "You resonate with the heaven's themselves, that's why."

Maka's head shot up. "Soul told me that I resonate with the moon. He said that's why I could see him normally at night."

"Evans knows only what I tell him." Kidd sighed, returning to his seat. "Really, it's everything in the sky. The moon is just closer, that's all."

He held up the apple for her to see, before laying it down upright on the table. Lord Grim then reached over and grabbed a few other things; some grapes, an orange, a pear. All of them he arranged neatly in front of him, though in no particular order. Maka leaned in and watched him as he put the finishing touches on his improvised art, being what looked like a decent attempt at a solar system. The grapes, the stars.

"You aren't affected by the sun, since it's much farther than the moon. This is especially true of planets and stars." Kidd explained with mild fascination.

She examined the diorama in earnest, before something she remembered made her pull back. "If that's so, then why am I stronger in Death? I see Soul just fine."

"That would be my father's soul." he recalled, closing his eyes. "Half of it, anyway. The part that surrounds the city. Unlike me, my father was truly a god. The heavens were his domain."

"The same father that you killed with your own hands?" Maka tore into him, making Kidd flinch.

He gazed up at her and stared absently for a bit, before shaking himself out of it. The Grim dared not look at her though, and she noticed his demeanor had changed yet again. No longer confident or angry, this time he seemed almost apologetic, guilty even. His was a submissive posture that he'd taken, with his shoulders hunched forward like a child that had just been scolded. He reminded her of Soul yet again, whenever she got after him for taking things from the vendors for her. The sight made a part of her sorry for stirring up something like that, but the majority of her didn't care. He was heartless anyway, right?

"The final rite to attain my title was to kill the previous Grim and eat the other half of his soul," Kidd revealed, making Maka's eyes grow wide. "It was my father's last wish. He wanted me to do it."

"As if I could believe something like that! What kind of father would urge his son to kill him in cold blood? What kind of purpose would that serve!"

He pushed the fruit away from him and got up without so much as sparing her a glance. "To teach me that there's no such thing as happiness when one becomes The Grim."

Maka bit her tongue as Kidd walked away from her towards the door in utter silence. She had nothing to respond with, nothing that could be added to the conversation to make it any less heavy. The weight of his words kept her motionless, as the thought of Kidd's father forcing him to murder kept tugging at the back of her mind. She so desperately wanted to hate him. She wanted to find every possible reason to continue cursing his existence like she had been for the past four nights. But every time Maka thought she found something to hold against him, it only backfired. Only her pity had grown, not her anger.

Lord Grim was an enigma. She'd have been lying if she said he was easy to figure out, but never did she imagine just how complicated this entire situation was. This relationship between him and Soul, it was so layered that words could not describe it. Hate, loyalty, rejection, friendship, how could these things come together when they were all so contradictory? Even now, as Kidd stopped at the doorway and turned to face her, Maka couldn't put a label to him. He wasn't intimidating, then again not welcoming either. He simply existed; a gray area in a world that she long decided was completely black and white.

"You want to know what I need you for," he stated as if reading her mind. "I don't have the heart to say it aloud, so I'd much rather show you."

Beckoning for her to come, Kidd opened the door and left before she could even decide to follow him or not. Clearly given no option, Maka shook her head with a sigh and trotted after him, not entirely feeling up the exertion but going along with it anyway. She was tired, and this feeling in the pit of her stomach just wouldn't go away. Her only hope was that whatever it was Kidd planned on showing her, it would finally put an end to all of this drama. Maybe she could just help him with whatever it was, for Soul's sake, and then leave in peace. That was the idea, anyway. Then again, when did the ideal thing ever take place?

This wasn't what she was expecting in the least, not when Kidd had said he'd be showing her what he needed. A library was definitely on the bottom of the list.

Especially one that was so  _ big _ , and in someone's house no less. Though to be fair, it wasn't that much bigger than the one in Loew and, now that she thought about it, The Grim did live in a mansion after all. Still, such an array of books she'd never seen before stirred up a burning fascination in Maka's chest. Knowledge was everything, and to have been away so long from the job she loved, it was enough to jog her brain into wanting to read all over again. A few light novels were nothing compared to the prospect of whittling down textbooks until all the information lie inside her head. The thought was sublime.

Kidd stood behind her as she floated towards the bookshelves. "What you want to know is hidden inside these books."

" _ Hidden?"  _ Maka stopped mid-step, spinning around in place. "You expect me to answer my own questions when  _ you  _ should have from the very start?"

He simply shook his head. "I'm not at liberty to discuss it aloud. In any case, thousands of years worth of information concerning Reapers and Grigories are in this room."

"But the logistics of it! You expect me to find this all on my own? There's more books than I can count!" Maka argued, exasperated at the thought.

"It shouldn't be a problem for you, Maka. I have no doubt in your skills as a scholar and if anybody can find the answers, it's you."

Back to hating him again, the young woman glared down her captor-host with a look that could kill. But he remained unfazed in spite of her temperament and instead made his way towards a bookshelf to his left. He scanned the shelves, obviously looking for something in particular and in a moment found it without much effort. Kidd scanned the cover briefly before handing it off to Maka, who snatched it up from him with a scowl. Thinking he was only playing games with her, she was surprised to discover that the title was in an old language, one she was actually familiar with. It translated to something like  _ 'Full born' _

"There, that's to help you get started." he smirked, pointing to the text. "Think of it like a puzzle. You have to solve one piece before the whole thing comes together."

Maka glanced up at the man in black, then quickly opened the book up to gaze at the rare words inside. A dead language she'd seen once or twice, in books that Loew had tucked away since the old days. It wouldn't have been a stretch to say that she was one of the few who could translate it, though nobody on earth still spoke it aloud. Her fingers traced the strange words like hieroglyphs, as if the words themselves would come out of the book and come to life before her very eyes. Immediately she wanted to sit down and read them, to crack the secrets that lay inside. All the while, Kidd found it in him to smile.

Silently he turned to leave her, though before he stepped outside Kidd threw his head over his shoulder, "I'll have someone fetch Enrique. An old friend's company ought to do you some good."

And before she even realized that he'd left, The Grim had disappeared into the bowels of Gallows Mansion. Maka threw her head up sometime after, though only long enough to make sure that he had gone. Just as soon as she'd confirmed it, the desperate scholar pulled up a chair and sat down right where she stood in order to read. In five minute's time, she'd read close to ten pages. By half an hour, almost a quarter of the book. Voraciously she consumed the knowledge within and with each knew thing she discovered, that fire in her chest grew more and more. It was exciting to be in her element again.

Not to mention that she was getting closer. To Soul, and to the truth. If there was one thing she was good at, it was studying, which is why she really didn't have a problem going through this personal library of Lord Grim's. The amount was daunting, but Maka wasn't one to be intimidated so easily. And so by the time that ancient text had fallen prey to her appetite, the next book was quick to follow. Kidd was right; it was just like a puzzle, and after reading that first book it became painfully obvious just which one she should read next. Soon she was at it again, blazing through the pages just as quickly.

It was so enthralling, Maka didn't even pay that queasiness any mind.


	31. The Two Knuckleheads

He hit the ground running. Literally.

Before he even knew it, the blue-haired stranger already had him flying through the air and out the window, only to fall two stories onto the desert sands below. Soul landed with a thud as a plume of earth shot up like a smokescreen, choking him and causing the Reaper to rub his eyes in a desperate attempt to see. Again he was at the mercy of this newcomer when, out of nowhere, he appeared from behind the dust and picked him off the ground by his collar. Feet dangling in the air, Soul and his attacker glared into each other's eyes as sand settled to the ground. The people of Needle Village could now see them in all their stupidity.

"You think you can just waltz right in here and move in on my girl?" the smaller of the two growled, shaking his hostage violently.

Soul grabbed him by the wrists in an effort to steady himself, but it wouldn't help. He was tossed about like a rag-doll, and with each second passed his anger and annoyance only increased. So by the time this person cocked one of his fists back to punch him, Soul had had enough. With a swift kick to the man's chest, Soul pushed off him and landed on his feet, watching the attacker fumble over himself before falling on his back. As their commotion increased, people started to come out of their dilapidated shacks to find out what was going on. All they found was the Azure Knight, with a Reaper hovering over him menacingly.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, and I don't care." he warned, pointing to the sorry heap on the ground.

_ “Four days!” _ The blue-haired man picked himself, glaring at Soul as he did. "Four days I've been trying to win her over, and all she ever talked about was you!"

"Who? Tsubaki?" Soul asked in confusion, stealing a glance up at the window he'd been thrown through. He found her there, redder than the desert sun.

In that same instant, Soul’s attacker was already looking to fight again. He bull-rushed the unsuspecting Reaper, running into him like a charging rhino with his shoulder. Soul coughed up a lung as he flew backwards, only stopping when one of the rundown shacks they were fighting around broke his momentum. People inside the home scattered when part of his body broke through the woodwork, the rest still painfully lodged outside between broken boards. The Reaper's head swirled for a brief moment, but he had no time to recover as the jealous boy came at him in full rage.

He was quick, but Soul was quicker. Before they could make contact, he pried himself from the broken shack and jumped out of the way in the nick of time. His rival was at the mercy of physics, forced into an inescapable crash that had him breaking all the way into these poor people's home. And unlike himself, these people were much more pissed off at the little fool, so much that a second later they were already chasing him out with brooms and shouting his name over and over again,  _ Black. _ At least now he knew who was attacking him, though that in itself was hardly comforting. Soul merely shook his head in annoyance.

While Black was busy not getting killed by the locals, the Reaper took some momentary cover by clamoring up the side of Stein's house. Desperately trying to catch a breath, he perched himself on the gutters nearest the window that Ms. Mjlnor and Tsubaki were watching the fight from. Both women stuck their heads out, though the latter was a bit more reluctant to do so.

"You and I are gonna talk about this later," Soul told her dully, to which the Night Stalker nodded meekly.

He wanted to say more, but now was clearly not the time. The fight demanded his attention, as he could tell from his high-up seat that Black had settled things with the tenants of the house both of them had destroyed. Now the blue fighter was staring up at him again, this time waiting for his opponent to make the first move. And with his patience waning thin, along with all these people crowded around them waiting for some action, Soul decided he was going to give everyone exactly what they wanted. He'd end things quickly, settle his debt with Stein, and get the hell out of this place once and for all.

Swiftly he rose to his feet, holding his arm out as he always did whenever summoning that infamous, blood red scythe that everyone feared. Things started as they always did; silver light trailed from where his heart and soul was, coiling like a snake around his right arm to form into solid steel. Only this time, something different happened when that weapon fully formed and the glow died down. For a moment Soul didn't realize, until Tsubaki's quick gasp made him look down at what used to be his scythe. This time however, it wasn't the scythe he'd known all these years. Not the simple, gothic design he remembered.

The blade...it was sharper. The curve, less pronounced. Instead of jagged red and black, half of it trailed off into a straight line. And the head of the scythe itself, trimmed in gold.

It was shocking; this weapon wasn't his. Or at the very least, wasn't born from the same soul that his previous one had been. A Reaper's weapon was born from their essence, thus they always remained the same. But almost immediately it became clear to him what had happened. That demon. The darkness. Everything he wished was a dream turned out to be real, meaning that his soul really was different now. It wasn't a Reaper's soul; it was a Grigori's soul. And though he still felt the same power as he always had, something else was there that made him quiver with strength. Something...more. Like he was whole again.

"Tsubaki, I can't use this..." he muttered, still staring at the weapon. "...I want to teach him a lesson, not kill him."

She nodded, just as dumbfounded as he was. "I don't know what happened to you but...like you said, we'll talk about it later."

Letting the weapon disappear back into him, Soul silently agreed. He didn't have time to dwell on anything; Black was apparently loud when he was impatient. Down below the little fool was calling to him, shouting till he was bluer in the face than his hair. Why he didn't just jump up there to join him Soul would never know, though he supposed Stein wouldn't have appreciated two men fighting on his roof. In any case, the Reaper decided to settle things with his fists, since using his scythe would have been dangerous around this crowd of people anyway. With that in mind, he hopped down from the roof...

...only to be met with Black's knuckles as he waited for him on the ground below. Before he even touched down, Soul cursed the bastard's name out loud as a fist smashed into his face with enough for to send him backwards. He spiraled, blood bursting from his nose and head spinning from the blow. But somehow he managed to keep his wits about him and recover, just narrowly falling down on his ass and giving Black another opening to attack. Soul shuffled for a moment, planting his feet firmly in the ground while at the same time his opponent made the mistake of underestimating him.

Figuring the same move would work the second time, Black went in for the strike. But unfortunately for him, the Reaper had already found his footing. In a flash, the Azure Knight was at him once more and Soul was ready for him. He ducked as a roundhouse came towards him, spinning around in sync with Black's fist almost perfectly. His timing just right, Soul went in for his first attack of the fight. He latched onto the man's arm, surprising the fool by flinging him back around with inhuman strength. Black was at the white Reaper's mercy when he grabbed him by the throat and pounded him into the ground with a soft thud. For once in his life, the protector of Needle Village was pinned to the floor, and everyone including himself was speechless at the sight.

Soul smacked him down once more by his throat. "I'm not here to fight you! I've got better things to do than babysit a five year old!"

"As if I'm that immature!" Black choked back. "Just because I don't have white hair like yours, that instantly makes me a child?"

The Reaper flinched, releasing his hold to take a step back. "Wait a minute...you can see me like this? A regular human?"

Black sneered, grabbing Soul by his wrists as he held on tight. "I never said I was a regular human,  _ Reaper! _ "

Three seconds. Three seconds was all it took for the red-eyed man to look down at his wrists to see where sparks were coming from, while at the same time scream in agony as electricity filled the air and coursed through his veins. He had no choice but to let go, muscles twitching so violently that there was no way he could keep hold of Black. In his shocked state, Soul was powerless to watch as the Azure Knight kicked him off and sprung to his feet like a gymnast. In one motion the battle had shifted yet again, with one of them on his back and the other readying a knife that he'd pulled from his side.

Still disoriented, Soul looked down at his now burnt arm. There were streaks all along it like being hit by lightning, but other than that he was fine now. The pain quickly subsided, and his senses returned to him. From the corner of his eye he found Black waiting for him patiently, albeit it with a shit-eating grin on his face and a measly blade at the ready. So just as quickly as he'd been pushed back, Soul hopped up as well. He stepped back to gain some ground between them, and his opponent allowed it. When all was settled, both men became unusually relaxed. Their postures became slacked, more at ease.

"You're a Grigori." Soul stated, examining his wound. "What's your resonance? Fire? Electricity?"

Black cocked his head to the side and grinned even wider. "As if anything else could handle me. I resonate with myself."

The Reaper blinked; was that even possible? Resonance makes two things become stronger through contact, but doing that all by oneself was a death wish. The most comparable thing would be running a cloth sack under a waterfall, which would either be swept up by the force of the water or break into pieces outright. Either way, it's impossible to capture such a powerful force in such a tiny space and equally unlikely for a soul to be able to handle that sort of stress. But once in a while, there  _ were  _ Grigories born strong enough for such a thing. Every century or so, stronger than the rest-

-Wait a minute. Just where the fuck was all this information coming from?

Soul grabbed his head and zoned out, causing his rival to raise a brow in question. Meanwhile, this very strange feeling in the pit of his stomach had the Reaper searching inside himself for answers; why all of a sudden did he know all about Grigori souls? And Reapers? And, now that he thought about it, what were all these...memories doing there? A chill ran up his spine at these random thoughts that popped into his head, some about him and Wes, some about him and Tsubaki. Then there was Kidd...what the hell was he doing laughing with the bastard? And smiling...? And...was Kidd actually happy-?

_ "-Hey, um, I don't know what's going on but, I'm going to attack now. So you might wanna get ready." _

Immediately he snapped back to reality the moment Black finished his sentence, and not a moment too soon. Already by the time he looked up, the Azure Knight was out running towards him full force in a mad dash to finish the fight quickly. All those memories took a momentary backseat as instinct took over Soul's body, forcing him into a blitz towards his opponent as both cocked their fists back to meet the other's. Their faces remained solid, determined, at least until they came within inches of one another. By that time, their eyes widened at the realization that there was no way for either of them to dodge.

Mirror images, the two met in the middle and slammed into each other's cheeks at the exact same time. Like a cheap comedy, their heads flew in opposite directions by the sheer force of their punches, quite possibly deforming their faces permanently. Soul and Black groaned on their way down to the sand, both landing in sync within a puff of debris and all of Needle Village there to watch their antics with bemused expressions. Tsubaki and Ms. Mjolnir, still watching from their perch, looked at each other and shook their heads. Meanwhile, the two fighters lay on their backs, moaning as they held their cheeks.

"...Why didn't you duck?" the Reaper complained, slowly pulling himself back up.

Needle Village's  _ hero  _ gave a loud whimper in return. "...Why didn't you?"

Both men continued to growl as they rose to their feet, though neither was in the mood to get right back into the action. They gave a sort of stare, as if sizing each other up without trying to intimidate the other. For once, Soul actually took the time to look his opponent over; he was young, but covered in scratches and scars. Black was a fighter and a strong one at that, although to say he was skilled would've been a joke. He was brash and his ego over-inflated, but Soul found himself smirking at his determination. The man spoke with his fists and he wasn't afraid to fight for something, even if that something was Tsubaki.

Then it quickly dawned on him; they were fighting for nothing. "Hey, listen. I wasn't moving in on your girl or whatever. So if we could just forget this whole thing-?"

"-Nu uh!" Black interrupted, wagging his finger in the air. "No offense, I kinda like you. But my pride's on the line here, plus she's watching us, so..."

The Azure Knight hunched over, grabbing hold of his own wrist in some strange stance that Soul had never seen before. Partly interested in seeing what the fool was doing, his expression immediately dropped at the sight of Black's own shadow starting to morph and change around him like some sort of snake on the ground. At the same time, the people of Needle Village all quickly scattered for their homes. Apparently they'd seen such a technique before and didn't want to be around to see it again, though Soul didn't have the pleasure of seeking sheltered. He was left there out in the open like a sitting duck.

And the Reaper knew what to expect too, though he didn't believe this Grigori boy could pull it off. Those abandoned memories rushed back to him as he watched dark lightning surround his opponent, Black's shadow creeping up his body towards his clenched hand. It was an ability that only Reapers were supposed to have; the power to summon shadows into shapes and weapons stronger than steel, forged with their own soul. But it came with a price, and that toll became noticeable on Black when an intimidating, black katana fully formed into his hands. He panted heavily, his entire body shaking from the stress.

"Gonna have to end this...real quick," the Grigori managed to say with little breath. "It won't kill you...probably..."

Soul returned to a defensive stance just as Black took off with all the force he had left, though the Reaper knew nothing could protect him from such an attack. It was designed to kill, to end one's life early and take the opponent's soul. His jaw clenched in anger, though not at Black specifically. The little fool didn't know what the hell he was doing. Sure he could use it, but he didn't understand just how dangerous it was for everyone involved. Such a monstrosity was created by soul eaters; it destroyed anything, dead or alive, and left nothing except essence to feed on. Black was killing himself by using it, and quickly.

Maybe he liked him a little more than he should have. Sure the runt was trying to kill him, but then again it seemed redundant to kill someone who was already dead. In any case, the distance closed between them so fast that Soul had little time to think anymore. He needed to dodge, now, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. If he did, he knew that Black would waste more time and chase him around. And with that attack of his still sucking away his life-force, it would only be a matter of time before he fell to the ground and killed over. The Reaper's fist curled in determination; he'd make the fucker stop, one way or another.

"Black! You don't know what the hell you're doing! Stop!" Soul demanded, baring his razor teeth. " _ I said stop! _ "

He didn't listen, or maybe he couldn't listen. That shadowy blade in his hands gave off this terrible noise, like a thousand birds chirping some sort of sick tune for their victim to hear as he died. It was so loud and Black seemed so focused, there was little the Reaper could say loud enough to get through to him. Still, Soul stayed firmly in place and continued to shout in vain. He wouldn't be responsible for an innocent man's death, at least not this promising kid with so much talent. It was a waste. It was stupid. And the thought kept screaming in his head, making him even angrier with the world and with Black.

"Soul, get out of there!" Tsubaki screeched from out the window, completely distraught at the scene. "You'll die, Soul! Please!"

"Stop this right now!" Marie called out at the same time, her face just as horrified as the woman's next to her.

The white Reaper ignored them. Their calls went unnoticed, all of his attention focused instead on glaring into those star-like irises of Black as he came dangerously close to him with that unholy weapon in his hands. The man was possessed by that damn sword, its evil flowing through him like some sort of puppeteer pulling at his strings. It had pulled more from him than his life, now it was taking Black's being. His dignity. And that was the final straw for Soul, the final thing to send him over the edge. He threw his head back and sucked in air, while at the same time another long lost piece of himself came back to life...

...his resonance. "I. SAID.  **STOP IT YOU FUCKING MORON!"**

At Soul's feet, shadows from all over the ground came towards him. From the buildings, from buzzards in the sky, even from people still watching the fight in shock, the darkest parts of the earth collected at a single spot beneath his feet. In an instant, there was a giant circle where his normal shadow once was, the entire thing writhing like a living, breathing creature. Black and his sword came at the Reaper a split second later, but by then it was already over. The attack was canceled when, out from the ground, giant tentacles made of darkness itself erupted forth and grabbed Black by his wrists and ankles.

At the second story window, Tsubaki froze with a hand over her mouth. Soul would have done the same, if he wasn't completely paralyzed at the sight. Black hung there in the air against his will, his blade disappearing as soon as the shadows grabbed him. Immediately, the man’s eyes faded to normal and his body became limp from the exertion he'd just been put through.

Meanwhile the white Reaper tried to process what was happening; for once in his life, he knew something without a doubt. It was the same technique that Kidd had used two hundred years ago when those Soul Eaters attacked. Only this time, these  _ tentacle things  _ didn't rip the person apart, thankfully. The real question was, why the hell had they appeared now? Soul's entire body shook as Black was released from his bonds and dropped to the ground without a sound. A second later and the appendages returned back to where they came from. First as a giant blob, then as individual shadows that left Soul's own.

"Just...who...the hell are you?" Black wheezed, reaching for his chest as the pain slowly started to sink in.

Soul took a deep breath and slowly made his way to the downed man, all his energy suddenly gone like the shadows. No more darkness between them, no strange powers or bitterness to fight with. It was just the two of them, and Tsubaki and Ms. Mjolnir as they watched the pair from above. The former had tears of relief in her eyes, the latter almost completely distraught.

Both Reaper and Azure Knight met on the ground as Soul let himself fall backwards next to his rival, neither looking at each other at first. All they did was stare up at that desert sky as the sun slowly started to fade over the distant mountains once more, the first time that Soul realized he was actually seeing something other than night for the first time in months. After a peaceful moment of silence, the two battered fighters looked at each other and sighed, knowing both of them had fucked up more than what was appropriate. Again they turned away, except this time they swallowed their pity and actually talked.

"You can call me Soul," the Reaper mumbled, embarrassed at the thought of making nice with his would-be-killer.

"Yeah, well...I'm Black of the Star Clan," the Azure Knight grumbled back, just as embarrassed.

It became silent once more, before Soul broke the air with a chuckle. "Wait, so your full name is  _ Black Star?" _

Red flushed the young man's face. "So what if it is? It's not like I asked for this name, don't hold shit like that against me-!"

"-I think it's cool," Soul cut him off with a grin, eyes closed from exhaustion. Black's eyes widened as he continued, "How 'bout from now on, that's what I call you?"

Just like that, the tension between both men floated away and disappeared as night slowly crept in to fill the void of day. Soul didn't open his eyes after that, and later Black would swear that he'd fallen asleep after all was said and done. But even so, the once hot-headed Azure Knight kept his mouth shut for the sake of this weird new arrival to Needle Village. It was strange for someone who lived there to befriend him, and the thought of a total stranger risking their life for him was even more bizarre, let alone a Reaper. Though, this Soul character wasn't like the others, and neither was his new-love, Tsubaki.

The villagers started to come out of their houses to see what had happened, but Black didn't pay them any mind. He just stole a glance at his passed-out rival and, giving a shrug, shut his own eyes too. It hadn't dawned on him that he was still in pain from using that sword like a moron, and even now most of it had subsided. Soul had taken his mind off during the worst of it and now the only thing left to do was rest. That, and ponder just what life was going to be like now that he'd just made nice with two Reapers, not to mention the fact that he'd just wrecked Stein's window and half of Needle Village in the process.

Well, at least he got a new alias out of it; Azure Knight was way too stuffy. Black Star had a nicer ring to it, anyway.


	32. The Revelation

She threw up again after sleeping. This time however, there was at least someone there to hold her hair back.

Strangely, this past week living in Gallows Manor had taught Maka one thing; these Reaper servants of The Grim, for whatever reason, had a bizarre affinity to follow her around. At first she figured that Kidd was the one ordering them to do so, but upon bumping into his personal assistant Elizabeth Thompson, she discovered that no such direction had been given. They were at her every beck and call for what seemed like no reason and all, and it baffled Maka when  _ Liz  _ Thompson started to do the same. The first day she helped her with little things and brought her food. Then, it quickly evolved into always being by her side.

That's not to say Maka didn't want the company. In fact, with no Tsubaki or Jacqueline around, it was refreshing to have a female friend around to talk with. And with her only other forms of interaction being with Enrique and Blair, both of whom had been brought as Kidd promised, she'd take all that she could get. 

Maka welcomed the extra help and casual conversations, even if talking with Liz cut into her time reading in Kidd's library. There was still so much work to be done, but having no Soul around to talk to was depressing, not to mention lonesome. And unlike Lord Grim, Liz understood the feeling all too well.

"You know, I still can't believe you plan to read all these," Liz mused, reading the cover of one of them. "I'm not even sure if Kidd has!"

Maka sighed as she shifted through the volumes of texts in front of her, "Well, he strikes me as the type to collect things. I doubt he even reads at all."

Liz gave a haughty chuckle and smiled at the woman. "Please! That man always has his nose in a book. Sometimes I have to smack him just to make him pay attention."

"You  _ smacked _ The Grim? And you're still standing here talking to me?" Maka gaped, convinced that any Reaper who challenged Kidd was doomed to die.

"Listen, what happened between Kidd and Eater was different. I can tell you from personal experience that  _ Lord Grim  _ is a big baby when it comes to women."

Maka looked down at her books and shook her head. Despite having lied to Liz and her sister in the Death Room all those months ago, she was relieved that the woman didn't hold it against her. Their conversations together kept her sane in an insane mansion, where there were more secrets than answers and Kidd wasn't willing to reveal any of them. Still, Liz always defended her master, albeit it in a passive sort of way. Whenever Maka made a passing snide comment about him, the Reaper would explain where he was coming from. And though it never changed her mind, Maka always appreciated the effort.

"...Besides," Liz started up again after a moment of silence, a sly grin snaking through her lips. "I know what happened in that dining room. You got him pretty good, didn't you?"

Maka fought back a smile. "I only gave him a little bit of what he deserves. Knowing Soul, he'll let Kidd have the rest when he gets back."

"You sound pretty sure of that. It's kind of inspiring how optimistic you can be," Liz sighed, taking up a seat next to her.

After that they remained silent, but the air between them wasn't awkward. It was a welcome calm that fell over the pair. From that point on, Liz would get up at random times and take a leisurely walk around the library. At the same time, Maka would continue delving deeper into the books before her as the information contained within started to reveal itself. Both women fell into the quiet atmosphere, losing track of the clock with their preoccupations. An hour passed, perhaps two, which by then it was already time for dinner.

They would have missed their chance at a meal if it wasn't for a familiar face bringing up a plate of food for Maka. A knocking at the door sent the two looking up to see who it was as it creaked open, revealing messy red hair followed by a furry creature so black, everyone would've sworn it looked purple. The little thing didn't hesitate to run past the man with food as it made a b-line for Maka, who bent over and picked it up eagerly. She cooed Blair's name, who meowed back happily while Enrique caught up to them. He set the silver dish right in between the sitting women, but tried to keep his distance from Liz.

"Aw, is the cabby shy of me?" the Reaper teased, noticing how he eyed her warily.

"Not shy, just cautious," Enrique muttered. "I've had too many stares since Tsubaki stopped guarding me. I’d like my soul right where it is, thank you."

Liz looked the newcomer up and down, then laughed. "Relax little Grigori, I don't have sharp teeth. I'm not a soul eater."

"I haven't really met many other Reapers like Soul...why is that, Liz?" Maka interjected, leaning back in her chair with Blair on her lap.

The two Grigories looked to her for answers, catching Liz off guard. She seemed to ponder the question for a moment, before an idea visibly spread across her face. In a flash she was up and out the door, leaving Enrique standing in confusion as the wind rushed past him. Maka looked down at the cat, who stared back with indifference before taking to licking herself. Then as quickly as she'd left, Liz Thompson returned with a few papers in her hand. She spread them out on the table for all to see, and the two guests clamored to see what the Reaper had brought them.

"There weren't many soul eaters to begin with, let alone after a certain someone killed off most of them. But there's still Spartoi, at least."

"Spartoi?" Maka repeated as she picked up one of the papers. On it, there was a picture of someone all too familiar, "Soul…"

"Kidd's strongest fighters," Liz explained, obviously not hearing that last part. "Three Reapers, and they all eat souls."

Enrique scanned over the remaining two papers, but immediately flinched when he came to one in particular. The likeness it portrayed was all too vivid in his memory; spiky, blonde hair and piercing brown eyes, he knew right away that it was Giriko. The cabby picked up his picture, sick in the stomach at the thought of meeting him on the Runaway Express. He handed it to Maka, who immediately let the picture drop down in disgust. She instead turned all of her attention to the last remaining paper, but raised a brow when there was no picture on it. Just information, which even then was only paltry.

"And who's the last member?" Enrique asked for her, as the young reader raised the paper up for Liz to see.

The woman examined it for a second. "Oh, that's their leader of sorts. He's the strongest, but not very photogenic for some reason-"

"-I thought Soul was the strongest!" Maka jumped to cut her off, immediately taking offense at Soul's reputation being threatened. But Liz only gave her a shrug and a sigh.

"All three of them have their little legends and titles, Maka. Eater was the most ferocious, so he got all the credit. But there's always someone stronger."

At that, Maka's mood grew just a bit more somber. She looked down at Soul's picture and made a face, wondering if he'd known all along that his infamy was a lie. Or maybe it wasn't his fault? Kidd could have lied to him, or something. Really she had no idea, nor the strength to worry over things that weren't all that important. Though it still bothered her to think that  _ The Grim's Strongest  _ wasn't really so, Maka quickly reasoned that her bodyguard was fine the way he was. Soul was powerful. He was stubborn. And now that Kidd held her captive there, he'd be relentless in getting her back.

Besides, she had other things on her mind. Like the plate of food Enrique had brought her, still hidden beneath a silver bowl that sealed in the freshness. Just the thought had her stomach calling loudly for sustenance, so obvious in fact that Liz and Enrique both raised their brows when she abandoned the conversation altogether and immediately went for the plate. It was surprising really, how quickly her attitude towards food had changed in the past week. At first she wouldn't go near it, and now a few days in Maka had become a slave to her appetite. More than likely, it had to do with her queasiness.

For the most part she tried to keep it out of her mind, but it was hard to ignore when she was now stuffing her face with what looked like some kind of pasta. Really, Maka did worry over the fact that she couldn't keep the previous night's meal down; her tiredness was at the very least a major inconvenience considering she tried so hard to stay up and read as much as possible. If it wasn't for the patience of her two friends, both of whom were now watching her devour the food in front of her, she probably wouldn't know what to do with herself. This sickness, be it nerves or illness, was made easier because of them.

"...Um, Liz?" Maka finally managed to say after swallowing a mouth-load of food. "I was wondering if I could keep this picture."

Liz blinked, until understanding she meant Soul's photo. "Oh! Sure, of course. And if you want, you could have the other two-"

"-I'll hold onto the leader's information. You can keep Giriko's," Enrique butted in with a scowl, shoving the Reaper's likeness into Liz's hands.

With a bit of annoyance, Liz nodded. She then turned for the door casually. "Fine. Just call me if you need anything, Maka. Meanwhile I'll go find my sister."

Maka waived her friend bye as the blonde Reaper shut the door behind her, leaving only Blair and Enrique to keep her company, the latter of whom decided to wander the library aimlessly out of boredom. Meanwhile, Maka's cat took to licking herself as her master killed off the last of her pasta guiltily. She felt particularly bad after realizing she'd been rude and hadn't offered the others any, but as for putting all of it down she couldn't have been more satisfied. That deep rumbling of her stomach was gone now, allowing her to focus on the task at hand.

"Well, Blair. I suppose we've got work to do...?" Maka started to say, before trailing off at the sight of Blair already curling up for sleep. She pursed her lips in annoyance. "Fine then.  _ I've got work to do." _

How was it possible to get lost like this? Hadn't he taken this same damn route before?

Enrique grumbled to himself, up to his knees with worry as the man scanned along the walls for some sort of landmark to give him a hint as to where he was. A half hour ago, he'd taken up the empty plate that Maka had left on the table and went down to return it to the kitchen. He was trying to help her with the little things, but had admittedly gotten himself into trouble when he'd realized about halfway down that  _ Blair  _ was the one who knew her way around this place. And of course he'd left her asleep with Maka, making his return trip run anything but smoothly.

That meant he'd been walking around, looking for the library for a good thirty minutes. All the while, the cabby cursed under his breath for being such a fool; he was supposed to be a driver for god's sake! How could he be so bad with directions, and in someone's home no less? Then of course as he turned a corner for what felt like the twelfth time already, it occurred to Enrique that about ninety percent of the time, it was his horses that usually ended up telling him where to go. Truth be told, the red head was terrible with directions. What's worse, his attention span was not much bigger than a child's.

"This isn't good-!" the man squeaked, keeping his eyes peeled for Reapers. "Dammit, why'd I have to open my big mouth?  _ 'Here, Maka. Let me get that for you.'  _ What an idiot!"

More cursing, more stumbling. A few more minutes of walking around without a clue, and finally he passed a painting that looked familiar. It was one he and Blair had seen on their way to drop off the pasta, so that must have meant the two of them had used this path before. Quickly the monkey-man cheered up as he walked by it, feeling as though he were on the right track. And sure enough after traveling another few hundred feet, Enrique found what he was looking for. At the far end of the hall was a door slightly cracked open, yellow light filtering through the open space; he couldn't have been more relieved.

Almost skipping towards it, Enrique lurched forward to grab hold of the doorknob. He was just about to fling it open and make a dramatic entrance before the realization that Maka was still reading made the man catch himself. No doubt she would be more than pissed off that he interrupted her with something stupid like this, right? The last thing he wanted to do was make her mad at him.

"Maka? How's the reading going?" he asked smartly, his voice barely above a whisper as the door creaked open. "Makaaaa~?"

It only opened halfway before Enrique stopped himself and stood there in the doorway, unable to see anything but at least able to hear it. He stared blankly at one of the rows of shelves on the opposite side; the only two things he could perceive were the sounds of a woman sobbing and the purrs coming from Blair the cat. The former wasn't loud, in fact she sounded like she was sniffling. But even without knowing what was going on, Enrique knew that it was Maka. What's more, he knew that she was hurt, and a million different things ran through his mind as to what might be the cause.

He flung the door all the way open and bore his teeth in a vain attempt to imitate Soul. He figured it must have been one of the Reapers giving Maka a hard time, or maybe even Kidd. The thought had anger bubbling inside him, but it quickly went away, only for it to be filled with trepidation when all he found was Blair there purring next to Maka to comfort her. The woman had her head in her hands, tears streaming down her face with books all around her on the floor as if they had been flung about by something or someone. It was a sight that made Enrique's heart sink.

He rushed to her and took a knee, trying his hardest to find out what was going on. "Maka! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She threw her head up and caught sight of his face, which only ended up making her cry more. "Nothing! I just...it's all- UGH!"

Enrique looked to her pleadingly as he desperately tried to make sense of everything. But Maka wasn't making it easy on him, not when she wouldn't look at him directly in the eyes. The woman kept looking just beyond him, as if ashamed of looking at anyone like they were equal humans. He wouldn't have it, and gently grabbed her head to face him. Maka stared back for a second as he made a silent plea for her to explain herself. They remained like that just long enough for the young woman to calm down somewhat; she took a deep breath and remained silent.

It took her a minute, but eventually she calmed down enough to speak. "I'm sorry, Enrique...I don't usually get emotional like this, it's just a symptom I guess."

"A symptom? Maka, what the hell are you talking about?" he asked back wide-eyed. Was she sick? And if she was, what could he do?

"I know what he wants with me," Maka replied with a tight throat. "I know a lot more too, but I still can't believe it..."

She wiped the tears from her face, while at the same time Blair meowed at her master's sadness. Enrique meanwhile wanted to prod and ask questions, but knew now wasn't the time. For a moment he thought that the best course of action was to simply comfort Maka now and ask her everything later. That would have been the gentlemanly thing to do, but then when on earth did he become a gentleman? Besides, Maka threw those plans out the window on her own when she bent over in her chair and picked up a book that had been thrown aside earlier. She tossed it onto the table in front of him.

"The Grim isn't really a Reaper," Maka started to explain to an eagerly waiting Enrique. "He's only half-Reaper, and the other half of him is dying."

"Kidd's dying...? Is that even possible?" he asked wearily, unable to believe something like that could even happen. "Is it because of Soul-?"

Maka shook her head and immediately the man was silenced. "It's a natural thing. It happens after a few millennium. He's very old."

She pushed herself away from the table and walked over to pick up another book sprawled out on the ground, its pages crumbled after having landed with the binding open. Enrique stared as she brought it back and flipped it over to one page in particular. Maka set it down in front of him and pointed to a paragraph at the top, before she pulled up a chair again and gathered Blair up in her arms. Enrique meanwhile looked down at the text and tried to read it, but everything was in a language he'd never seen before. Either that, or he just wasn't very good at reading, which he honestly wasn't.

"I can't make heads or tails of this, Maka. What's it say?" he finally prodded after another minute of trying. He'd given up.

"It was one of the first books I read. It says that every hundred years or so, a handful of Grigories are born that are stronger than the rest."

Enrique's eyes glazed over as she said those words. He wasn't a genius, but it didn't take one to figure things out. "So you're one of those Grigories?"

"Grigori means angel in the old language," Maka explained tiredly, as if everything was draining her. "In my case...I literally am one. I brought Soul back to life."

"So let me get this straight. Kidd is dying, and you can bring the dead back to life...basically what you're telling me is that he wants to live forever and use you to do it?"

He thought he had everything figured out, but Enrique was surprised when Maka shook her head. The red of her eyes started to get just a little bit deeper; she was upset, and whatever it was that Kidd had in store for her had the cabby quaking in his boots. Maka wasn't afraid of him before, but everything in how she acted now made Maka seem like a victim. Maybe not yet, but if The Grim were to have his way, Enrique shuddered to think what exactly that entailed.

"He doesn't care about dying. But if there's no Grim, then the Reapers die out as well. Kidd doesn't want that, which is why he wants to make another Grim."

The cabby focused on empty space as he tried to search his memory. "You said someone has to eat part of the previous Grim's soul to receive their title, right?"

Maka shook her head. "But that's only half of it. The Grim is born  _ and  _ created, not just any Reaper can become one. It takes someone special."

"Special as in how, Maka...?" Enrique started up before immediately trailing off at the sight of her face. "Wait. You said Kidd's only half Reaper. What's the other half?"

It was at this point where that red peppering her eyes finally erupted into tears again. They didn't flow like a river a river this time, however, and instead just pooled and collected.Enrique’s heart sank at the sight; he didn't want her to be sad, and it was his job as her friend to make sure that didn't happen. However, there was nothing he could do to console her, and the minute he tried to stand up and reach for her, Maka turned away and shook her head. All of this plotting, everything involving The Grim had finally sunk in and ripped through her like a hurricane. Her insides were being torn apart.

"Reapers are infertile. At least, that’s what Soul used to tell me,” she breathed heavily. “I know now it’s because they’re all technically dead.”

Just like that, Enrique's head immediately shot up. There was no reason to bring something up like that, unless..."Maka, don't tell me-"

"-But a long time ago, the first Grim ended up having a child with a human woman. A Grigori like us...like me, who can bring the dead back to life-"

"-No...no, no, no, no, no! Don't tell me Kidd's mother was a Grigori!" the cabby snapped, jumping up from his seat.

Maka bit her lip and looked away. "He needs me to make a half-born child, so he can raise it to eat his soul one day and become Grim."

Enrique's entire body became limp. His face became as horrified as Maka's was hurt. He stood there in total shock, unable to comprehend what she had just told him. Just the thought of it was disgusting, so much so that he wanted to vomit; was Kidd planning on forcing himself on her? All to keep these soul eating bastards alive? There was no justice in this. No part of this was even the slightest bit justified. Slowly the cabby's fist curled at the thought, his rage building again to the point of wanting to punch something. The face that Maka was making right now...he didn't know how to respond with anything but anger.

But Maka needed him now; she was hunched over, a hand covering her mouth to keep from making noises in her weakened state. The cabby swallowed his emotions for the time being, just long enough so he could slowly approach her and put an arm around her from the side. The minute he did however, she turned around and threw her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. Enrique frowned, but didn't say a word as she vented. Blair meanwhile hopped down from the table and laid down right next to the two, head in between two paws as she watched.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke up. "I'm not Soul. I'm not that strong. But I promise, I won't let him anywhere near you. Blair and I will take care of you and-"

"-Enrique! I'm not upset because of that!" she cried into his shoulder, surprising the cabby like nothing else. "Haven't you wondered why I've been sick?"

Maka squeezed him tight, but just as quickly let go to walk away. Enrique watched her leave in complete shock and confusion, but at least the gears in his head started moving. He started thinking about how often she'd been throwing up, how tired she'd been despite being so fit and healthy before. Then of course the sudden change in her appetite that had him running around trying to find the strangest foods for her during bizarre times of the day. She was ill, wasn't she? All of this had to do with Kidd making her sick with worry right? That's all it was,  _ right? _

"When Soul and I were together...he never...I never-" Maka couldn't finish the sentence. She hoped Enrique understood, which he unfortunately did.

All the cabby could really do was try to remain on his feet. But even though he tried so hard not to, he still fell to his chair. "...Maka?"

"...I haven't been paying attention, but I can't remember my last period..." she said quietly, trying so hard to not lose it again and start crying.

For the what felt like the hundredth time that night, Enrique was at a loss for words. There was nothing in his large vocabulary that he could say to ease the situation; all these things being brought to light at once, and worst of all was the uncertainty of what this meant for them, especially Maka. He didn't need to hear those next few words that came out of her mouth to know what was wrong with her and really, all that could run through his mind was the thought of how Kidd would take this. How would The Grim react to that one sentence she mumbled aloud…?

"...Enrique, I think I might already be pregnant."


	33. The Oath

Three days had passed since that incident with the village Grigori, and since then much had changed.

For one thing, she now knew who he was; Black of the Star Clan, the last remaining member of the once-famous group of assassins. How he came to be here in the middle of the desert, Tsubaki couldn't say. All she knew for sure was that this Grigori had taken quite the liking to her, since he made it quite clear the day after his fight with Soul, when he barged into her room and confessed his love right then and there. Needless to say she had Marie drag the man out by his ears, though even Tsubaki had to admit it was kind of amusing. A grown man huffing and puffing like that, she hadn't laughed so hard in quite a while.

Meanwhile, the village itself was in the process of rebuilding itself. All the damage Soul and Black Star had caused was hardly noticeable to her, but the locals seemed able to tell apart the old holes in their shacks from the new ones. Run down though they may be, the people of Needle Village had worked feverishly to patch up their homely abodes. Tsubaki had to admit that while these people didn't have much, they still held desperately onto one thing; pride. All their hard work wasn't for much, but no matter how rough life was they at least still hard their dignity. She'd have been lying if she said she didn't like these people.

Stein and Marie had been kind enough to let her and Soul stay in their home as long as they needed, which was welcomed since he wasn't in the best of shape. Exerting himself so soon after an injury like that was a bad idea, and one that ended up costing him in the end. A few popped stitches here and there, some new wounds to worry about, not to mention one serious headache, Soul was battered and exhausted. They would have to remain there for a little while longer, until he was at least able to sit up in his bed. All Stein asked in return was that they try not to obliterate his window again, while Marie begged Tsubaki to keep their _other _guest preoccupied once in a while. With an awkward smile, she had to decline; Black Star was nice enough, but he'd need some getting used to before humoring his inflated ego.

All that left was Soul himself. Despite worrying about him constantly, she just couldn't seem to understand him. Perhaps he was the one who had changed the most in these past few days...

Well, that's not to say that she _thought_ about him. Not like that, no. It's just that he seemed different, from the moment Black Star dragged him back into the house and she helped him into his bed. That first night he was out like a light, not even waking up to eat. Then slowly but surely, by the next day he was already awake and wanting to get out of bed. Of course she told him no and to get some more rest, and he begrudgingly obeyed her. But it was that look in his eyes, this bizarre sort of stare that one doesn't know how to respond to, that first made Tsubaki realize that something was wrong with him.

Or her. At least, that's what he made it seem like. Soul, he didn't...talk to her. Not like he used to before his fight with Lord Grim, or even with Black Star for that matter. In fact he seemed to outright avoid her now, and she just couldn't understand why; it couldn't have been about Maka, could it? He'd seemed so determined and fearless before, she doubted him of all people would worry like that. And even then there would be no reason for him to give her the cold shoulder, one so frigid that it actually started to hurt. Soul trusted her, didn't he? If something was wrong he'd tell her, wouldn't he...?

_"...So what's this I hear about you talking about me?"_

Apparently not, as Tsubaki discovered very quickly when she opened that door and found him changing out of his tattered suit. It was surprising on multiple levels; first and foremost, why on earth hadn't they changed him out of that suit already? Second, the man was down to his trousers. And third, the big one, was that his stare was back. The same one from before, cold and distant, only this time it wasn't directed at her. He instead glared at the wall as he slipped off his disgusting clothing from last week. Tsubaki looked down, both to avoid looking at him and to muse over her timing. In her hands was conveniently a fresh pile of laundry.

She bit the inside of her cheek and kept quiet, deciding to answer him once he put on something, _anything, _to wear. She shrugged before handing him his new clothes, then turned to look the other way while he slipped into them. Tsubaki gazed out the window and tried to keep the thought of what was going on next to her far from her mind. Though she couldn't see him, Tsubaki could hear Black Star walking loudly around the area. He was yelling something to someone, or perhaps just in general. No doubt he was playing the part of village protector again, much to their chagrin.

"You really shouldn't be up Soul," Tsubaki finally spoke up after turning to find him now fully-clothed, "Marie or I could have changed you."

"You didn't answer my question," Soul grunted in reply. He took his shoulder and pulled it back, which resulted in a loud crack.

Again with the coldness, she thought to herself. If he was angry at her, then he'd mine as well come out and say it instead of acting like a child. Tsubaki wanted to tell him just that, but her quiet demeanor won out in the end. While he went across the room to gather what few things he had, Tsubaki simply turned towards the door and made for it quickly. The sooner out of there the better and maybe while she was at it, ask Marie about what she might do to get him to talk. Soul was never one for long conversations, even way back when. But he was being ridiculous...all she was doing was trying to help...

"...Where are you going?" Soul called out behind her, making the woman stop just short of walking out. Again he repeated, "You still didn't answer my question."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion; what did it matter? "I told Black Star and Marie you're the White Haired Reaper. It was only natural."

Again there came a growl, only this time it was much harsher. Angrier. "Well then tell me something else, Tsubaki! Since you seem to have a lot to say with everyone except me!"

"What on earth is that supposed to mean-!?" Tsubaki shot back defensively. She spun around, ready to yell at him, but was immediately silenced by a pair of flaming red eyes.

They were in her face, so close that she could see every little twitch and movement. A scowl accompanied them, one that gave him the appearance of a rabid dog that had found its next meal. Tsubaki could see her own reflection in those eyes, and she start to slink under Soul's leering glare. He was normally around the same height as her, but now it felt like he towered over her. The back of her throat started to tighten as old memories suddenly came to mind again; they hadn't been this close in a very long time. Only last time he wasn't this intimidating, or scary. Last time he didn't make her feel like dirt. And last time she actually wanted to be around him, unlike now when she wanted to run.

"Dammit, Tsubaki...!" his snarling face suddenly crumbled, revealing for just a second years of pain and bitterness. "Why have you been lying to me? All those years ago...I had a brother! And Kidd! And _you_!"

Tsubaki froze. In a split-second, several things ran through her head and came to a screeching halt just as quickly. She at first thought he heard incorrectly, but immediately knew that wasn't the case. Soul's lament-filled face served as a guilty reminder that she couldn't hide from anymore; one hundred years of this, and she'd never thought this moment would come. It wouldn't happen, Kidd assured her. It couldn't happen. But it did. Her train of thought went completely out the window. She now knew why he was so angry with her, why he'd been giving her cold looks whenever they were in the same room together, why he'd tried to avoid her at every opportunity he got. All Tsubaki could do was stare up at him with mouth wide open, too dumbstruck to say anything for the first time in her life.

She took a step back. But as soon as she did, Soul matched her with a step forward. "Y-you...remember? But I never...Soul, I didn't-!"

"You were there when I was still human!_"_ he barked, moving in ever closer, "even after I became a Reaper you were there! And then you _abandoned me!"_

Tsubaki kept moving backwards, but the wall quickly put a stop to that. Soon she was up against her back, and Soul wasn't giving her any space to breathe. His face was so close to hers, their foreheads could nearly be touching. Immediately she closed her eyes and wished none of this was happening; he wasn't supposed to remember anything! He seemed fine before, so why now? Was it that fight with Black Star? Those shadows he created, they were just like The Grim's...did that have something to do with it? They were just like Kidd's the day he turned Soul into a Reaper, when he brought him back from the dead. She hadn't been there, all she had to go off of her Kidd's explanations-

"_-Answer me,_" Soul demanded frigidly. His tone was deceitfully quiet, like an assassin before pulling the trigger.

Tsubaki opened her mouth to say something but the words just wouldn't come out. The sight of him like this, suddenly remembering everything about himself, was just too much for her to remain coherent. She slumped down and folded her arms, as if the gesture could give her a tiny sense of comfort. Soul spat at the sight, growling like a beast as he turned from her furiously. Meanwhile Tsubaki watched his feet move away from her, knowing that if she didn't say anything right now then he'd leave her and probably never speak to her again. She couldn't allow that to happen.

"...When Kidd turned you into a soul eater and you lost your memories, Kidd made me swear not to tell you anything about yourself!" Tsubaki blurted out, stopping Soul in his tracks. "I had an obligation to him, Soul!"

Soul halted. He spun around, and again gave her a look that could kill. He took in a shuddered breath, and his entire body shook with adrenaline. "Yeah? And what about me, Tsubaki? We used to be friends!"

"I was always your friend!" Tsubaki cried back. Her insides felt like they were turning into knots. "I never stopped watching you! I've supported you from out of sight this whole time! You and Kidd!"

Soul paused. He didn't look any less pissed, but his verbal assault seemed to hold for now. Tsubaki meanwhile looked down to the floor and fought back watery eyes, worried about whether or not she'd convinced him of her dedication to him. Everything she'd ever done for him suddenly spilled out from the recesses of her mind in a complicated jumble of memories and emotions, a sea so thick with the history between them that there wasn't enough time in the world to wade through it all. But there it all was, drowning her and Soul in a room that neither wanted to be in at the moment.

Centuries ago, Soul Evans became a Reaper. Under the circumstances of his death, Kidd felt as though he owed Soul the world and he quickly became The Grim's favorite. Back then, Soul was young, naive, cocky, and good natured. He had no business becoming Kidd's bodyguard, though; he was charming, but pitifully weak for the job. Still, since she was Lord Grim's right hand, Tsubaki got to see him a lot. Admittedly it was awkward at first when he found out she had only danced with him to get information for Lord Grim, but they eventually buried the hatchet and became fast friends.

Soul was Kidd's guard, but Tsubaki in turn would watch over him. He hated her for that, and she loved to hold it over him. It went on like that for close to a century; she enjoyed his company, he begrudgingly welcomed her help, and at the center of it all stood Kidd. Back then, The Grim was almost happy. Maybe Tsubaki was, too. Soul had that effect on them. He had his rough points, but people tended to gravitate towards him. Maybe that was why Kidd practically gave Soul whatever he requested. A position by his side, a grand piano to play with on his off days in a vain attempt to woo the ladies, the souls...

...Things changed overnight, almost literally. One day Soul was Soul and the next he was...the white haired Reaper. The charming man she'd known for so long had been quickly replaced by a monster with ghost-white hair and burning red eyes. He'd eaten souls...far more than she ever thought possible. What happened that eternal night in Death City, she didn't know for sure; all Tsubaki did know was that Kidd swore her to secrecy the first opportunity he could. No matter what, Soul Evans was never to know who he was. His brother, his talent, all of it traded away at the cost of the little humanity that all Reapers still hang onto desperately. And...she agreed to everything.

What other choice did she have? Kidd was their master. He could compel them to do whatever he wanted. All of his orders must be obeyed, no matter how badly she wanted to break down and beg him to reconsider. _Soul's our friend! _She desperately tried to remind him that night. Instead of its intended effect, however, all it did was cause The Grim to erupt in a fury. He gripped her by her shirt collar and, completely different from the Kidd she knew and loved, gave her the coldest words she'd ever heard him utter; _We have never been friends. I expect you to do your job, and nothing_ _else._

...So much more had happened after that, but she had no time to think of it all. Regardless of what Kidd had said, Tsubaki couldn't just abandon him. Not completely. She stayed out of view and watched from afar, unable to directly help with anything but trying to help in small ways nonetheless. A hundred years of watching from the sidelines however couldn't make up for the fact the she'd lied to Soul for just as long, and half of her wanted to just lay back and accept whatever verbal abuse he had planned for her. She deserved it. But even so, half of her wanted to defend herself. It was an honest reaction; her back was against the wall and she had no idea what to say in that situation.

Even so, he retort came out as much angrier than she would have liked. "I did the best I could, Soul! I did everything in my power to help you! What more do you want from me?"

"I want to be treated like a person, Tsubaki! The way Maka treats me!" he immediately fired back, hushing her instantly. "That's all I ever wanted from anybody!"

Soul's hands clenched to fists and every muscle in his body grew tense as he threw his arms up in exasperation, like there were no words to describe what he was feeling. Tsubaki's heart wrenched at the sound of him growling like he always did, although this time it meant so much more than him being angry. He was in pain, and like an animal being killed he didn't know what to do with himself. All he could do was let his body wear itself out, finally settling down when he became tired and his head drooped down towards the floor. For a moment it was silent after that, till he took a tremulous breath.

"...It was my choice to become a soul eater," Soul admitted weakly, rubbing his face in defeat. "But I never thought for even a moment I'd forget about Wes."

Tsubaki bit her tongue. Tears started to well in her eyes at the mention of his brother, "I never meant to hurt you, Soul...Please-"

"-Even then, Kidd would have helped me remember," he continued, ignoring her completely. "He should have, but no. The bastard threw me away like a broken tool...I'm so sick of being just a tool."

Looking down at his hands, Soul scowled at something imaginary inside them. Fingers curled into a tight fist and he was at it again, releasing that pent up energy that suddenly bubbled inside him. Tsubaki watched in dismay as he reached for the old clothes tossed over his bed and threw them aimlessly against the wall, his red eyes burning like an unforgiving flame. She slumped further towards the floor, feeling lower than dirt and just as useful. Even if there was a way to comfort him, it wouldn't be coming from her; she was the root of all his pain right now, indirect though it may be. She hated herself for it.

"And this fucking demon!" Soul barked at the wall, not even facing her anymore. "Talking to me when I sleep at night, I can't take it anymore!"

At a second's notice, she snapped to attention and gaped at his back. "A demon? Soul...you've been talking to one of those creatures?"

To Tsubaki's relief, Soul actually turned around to face her. "Since I got this scar across my chest. He offered me power. I want it."

"You should have told me sooner!" Tsubaki cried, shaking her head. "They're dangerous! You can't trust demons, Soul! They always lie to you-!"

She shut up the moment their yes met, the look on his face making Tsubaki feel insignificant again. Only this time he didn't stop. He didn't hold back like he'd been doing this entire time. He just continued leering, so intensely that as the seconds passed by she wished he would end it soon. But Soul put everything he had into making her feel like shit, and it didn't take long before the usually-strong woman contemplated begging; anything to make this heavy aching in her heart disappear, and stop this murderous gaze that once belonged to the white haired Reaper.

"Fuck you, Tsubaki!" he finally hissed, ripping through her like a knife. "You made your choice a long time ago, and Kidd got everything he wanted. So don't pretend to care about me, and just leave me the fuck alone."

If ever there was a time to see someone's spirit shatter, it was right then and there; when Soul turned around without another word and stormed out of the room, leaving Tsubaki there on the floor with fresh tears and no will in her to stop crying. For once, she wasn't this composed person who everyone could depend on. She had The Grim's world on her shoulders, every little task and mission that no one else could do except her. And yet, the Night Stalker cursed her title now. The position and everything associated with it, she'd trade it all away if it meant he'd just stay and talk to her.

But Soul wasn't coming back, and as he thundered down the hallway and eventually out of the house altogether the white Reaper didn't know what to do. On the outside his temper knew no bounds, the door behind him creaking off its hinge due to him slamming it so hard. His insides were about the same, though Soul's anger was mixed in with fear. And as he looked up at the slightly waning sun, the Reaper bore his teeth at the uncertain fate that awaited him. He was on his own now, and couldn't trust anybody. Everyone was an enemy, and the world was nothing more than collateral in getting Maka back.

He honestly believed that at the time and for a second would have bet his life on it. But fate tends to change the way people think on a dime, and the stressful day Soul found himself in was no exception. Few people could hold his attention long enough in this rat's nest of a village and yet one person could always do just that; if not with soft words like Tsubaki, then with a giant ego the size of Death itself.

_"You," _he heard the person say, just as he was about to walk away. _"I heard everything, and I've got something I wanna say to you."_

Now wasn't the time to put up with his bullshit, and Soul growled like a feral mutt. "Black Star, dammit! What the fuck is it-?"

Soul spun around, about ready to take his anger out on the blue-haired runt. Fists curled at his side, but ultimately they remained locked in place when Black Star grabbed him by the shoulders. Staring into him with dark green eyes, he held the Reaper in place long enough to get his point across; calm the fuck down. And the way his fingers twitched as he held him tight made Soul realize just how serious Black Star really was.

"You're coming with me," the assassin wavered, his face letting up a degree. "I think it's about time we got you drunk."

* * *

By then the sun was already starting to fade and the stars quickly beginning to take their place, but the white Reaper really couldn't focus on any of that.

Outside Needle Village next to a rundown shack furthest from the rest, he lay there. A bottle in his hand, he stared down at the thing and tried his hardest not to throw up. Meanwhile, Black Star lay atop the shack itself as he stared up at the stars, having barely said a word since they retreated there not too long ago. In his hand another bottle as well, of something he called "Desert Drink." Whatever it was, it didn't sit well with Soul. But he hardly had the choice, and his attitude at the time blocked out that part of him that gave a shit. So this is how he ended up; in the desert, drunk on his ass and moping.

Which was kinda odd, since he'd never gotten drunk before. He could kill whiskey just fine, hell, he'd killed bottle after bottle before. But this stuff had his head swirling like nothing else could, and vaguely the Reaper wondered if this was another side-effect of his soul being repaired. Maybe he was more human than he thought now...or maybe this drink was designed to make get a person so plastered that they forgot about reality for a while. If that was the case, it certainly got the job done; he knew he was angry, but couldn't recall entirely why. All that was there was Tsubaki's face, and it hurt to see it.

Kind of sad, actually. But that didn't seem to be what Black Star had in mind for him, at least that's what he thought anyway. The azure-man just lay there, swinging one leg over the other, taking in the beauty of his namesake. Above them, constellations formed and the moon graced the night once more and as it did, Soul sobered up just a tad. Enough to realize that Maka was still out there, and the moon is what caused all of this. If it wasn't for that full, silver rock in the sky, she'd be an average person. She'd still be in Loew, still have her normal life. He'd have never met her but...mores the pity.

Both of them stared up at the sky for what felt like hours until, after all this time, Black Star finally spoke. "You're going to have to apologize to her."

Soul's eyes widened and he looked up at the man, but he didn't return the gesture. Eyes still glued to the sky, it felt as though he wanted an answer, even if he wasn't going to ask for it. The white Reaper looked back down at the ground, then at the bottle in his hand. Maybe it was just him getting his bearings back, but suddenly he didn't feel all that drunk anymore. He remembered why he was upset at Tsubaki and what he had said to her, all the more reason why his shoulders started to droop like a scolded child. Despite what she had done Tsubaki still cared for him, and maybe not in that friendly sort of way he'd come to expect out of her all this time; he'd never seen Tsubaki cry like that before. Actually he'd _never _seen her cry before, and slowly it started to dawn on him that maybe there was something to it.

"Yeah, I know," Soul replied wearily as he tried to pick himself up. It didn't work at first, as he fell on his ass at the first attempt.

"...I can tell she likes you." Black Star muttered back, not noticing the Reaper finally make it to his feet. "She won't take me seriously, but you-"

He was cut off at the sight of a pair of hands flop on the shack roof next to him, causing him to jump up in surprise. The person they belonged to hoisted himself up the tiny building, his white hair ruffled and matted with sand as he let himself fall into place right next to the assassin. Soul grinned at his obvious confusion, but said not a word. Eventually, Black Star got the picture and fell to his back again. Both men lying down opposite each other, silence fell yet again between them as the desert night took their attention once more. So many stars, it was a beautiful sight. One that could never be forgotten.

"Tsubaki's all yours buddy," the Reaper smiled, not able to see his face but knowing Black was shocked nonetheless. "I don't have any feelings for her."

The other man was silent for a bit, before letting out a sigh. "You have this beautiful woman who wants you, and you turn her away? Why?"

"Simple; she's not Maka," Soul replied without missing a beat, and just like that things fell silent between them once more.

Black Star shook his head and picked himself up, getting a good look at his friend the Reaper as he did. Soul's face looked so distant, like looking at something on the moon that nobody else could see. Faintly, the man wondered what kind of woman could turn this man into a shell of his former self, because that's exactly what was going on here; he wasn't stupid, tales of the White Reaper weren't just restricted to his territory. Anyone who knew the reapers knew of The Grim's Strongest and Black Star was no exception, which is why he couldn't wrap his head around just how tame this man really was.

"This girl of yours," he suddenly broke the quiet air, "must really be something to get you all romantic and stuff. She gorgeous?"

"Flatter than a ten year old," Soul sneered to himself, amused at the thought. Meanwhile, Black Star's face gave his confusion no justice.

"Well then, why the hell would you go through all this trouble for her?" It didn't make sense to risk your life for anyone, let alone someone not worth it.

But his friend surprised him again with his answer. "Maka's the only one who saw me as a person. My brother was like that too, and I'd throw my life away for both of them."

A brother, eh? Kind of strange, knowing that even Reapers had family somewhere. Black Star cocked his head to the side and made a face, slightly disheartened to know that even these death demons knew what it was like to have relatives. And if they had relatives, they must also have friends too. That leads to love, and love leads to this white-haired fool lying in front of him. So knowing all that, was it really pathetic that he didn't know what any of these things were? Family, friends, love; things he could never find in this death-trap of a village, where his existence was solely for the village and nothing else.

But...maybe things could be a little bit different now? It was kind of ironic really, how two Reapers would be the ones to get the cogs in his head to start turning. One with a rack bigger than his head, who for some reason didn't make him want to _just _have sex with her, either. He wanted to hold her hand and protect her like the others, or maybe even more than the others. She wasn't just gorgeous, but warm too. No one else in the village gave him the time of day, but at least she was sweet enough to talk to him. And he knew it was mostly out of pity, but maybe if he tried a little, it wouldn't have to be that way.

And this man, this _Soul Eater_; something about him, in the way he talked and how he looked at people, made Black Star feel confident about something other than himself for once. The White Haired Reaper was a myth now, that much was for sure. All that was left was this guy, lying down innocently, with a power that wasn't just brute strength. He had something going for him, a kind of drive that Black Star wasn't sure he could match with his guts alone. People depended on Soul, and he wasn't the kind of man to let them down. That was something they had in common, at least; neither of them would lose to anything.

That's probably why the assassin found himself trusting this Reaper. "Mine was a clan of swords-for-hire, and the Reapers killed them all years ago."

Soul's eyes quickly narrowed as Black Star's words sunk in. "Then that's something we both have in common. The Grim took Wes from me."

"I was just a baby when Stein found me and took me back here. He raised me, trained me sort of. But I was always strong, always."

"Your soul's incredible," the white Reaper nodded in agreement, "Knowing a Grigori like that could even exist is surprising."

Black Star raised a brow, but shrugged all the same. "I guess, I dunno. Maybe that's why The Grim wants us all dead."

"Dead?" Soul suddenly perked, picking himself up from his spot. He dusted himself off, waiting for a reply.

But Black Star only stared back in silence, a surprised but serious look to his face. Both men stared at each other for a second, before the azure-assassin got up and made his way to the edge of the shack. Meanwhile, Soul watched in confusion as his friend sat back down with a loud thud. The shack rattled, but neither moved. Both frozen in place, Black Star kept his eyes glued to Needle village just off in the distance as the Reaper was forced to focus on his back. Every muscle in the man's body twitched, as if his question had stirred up bad memories that should've stayed forgotten. In the desert night, both waited.

"...Where do you think they get the souls to make Reapers like you?"

The question was simple and came casually, but its impact left a dent in the Reaper's psyche the moment Black Star asked it. His eyes widened, his throat became tight; all the color drained from his face, as did the heat in his hands and feet. Cold sweat started to beat at Soul's forehead as he darted his attention to the village where so many lived and where every single person there, he now knew, was only meant to feed the urge in his stomach he once had. Suddenly the queasiness from before started to sink in, only this time it wasn't because of the booze. It was guilt, he was revolted with himself.

"Until I drove all the Reapers out of here, they would raise us." Black Star hissed bitterly, spitting at the thought. "Like cattle, until we got old enough. Then they'd kill us and take our souls."

The Reaper looked down at his hands as pure disgust swept through him. "...I never thought about where they came from...I didn't know they came from this village-"

"-This village? Soul, there's no way we could feed all those Reapers. There's at least twenty others in the desert, and The Grim slaughters us in each one."

...Twenty. Really...that many? All of those people, all of those souls. Every single one of them destined to become someone else's dinner, and for what? For some sick need for power? For sustenance! There weren't even that many soul eaters to begin with, and just how long had this been going on! How could anyone eat that many souls, how could _he _have made a name for himself by eating that many souls! It was ridiculous! It was bullshit! His fame, Sparoti's fame, all the soul eaters who lived and ever will, all of it was a lie. There was no power, they weren't strong at all! The bodies and souls of those they'd killed, that's all that it was!

He took his fist and pounded in into the roof of the shack, obliterating a hole in the tiny thing to make himself feel the slightest bit better. But it didn't work, and instead of relief all Soul felt was pure resentment. All of it pointed inwards, the Reaper could do nothing but put the entirety of the blame on his shoulders; he wanted to become stronger than any other Reaper, in order to protect Kidd. And it worked, all it took was more souls than anyone had eaten before him. Kidd certainly was protected back then, safe enough to continue raising Grigories to feed his appetite. They were both equally to blame.

This system was evil, and he was its biggest player. He created a demand for it, as did the others. But none of the others were famous for eating the souls of everyone they came across, only him. His hands were tainted with other people's blood, and he had no right to look any Grigori in the eyes ever again without atoning for it. How could he ever face Maka like that? What kind of hypocrite would fall in love with a girl who ate people like her for breakfast, and try to tell her that he'd never hurt her? And Black Star...how could he ever say he was the man's friend, when there was a very good chance he played a part in killing his entire clan?

"Needle Village is safe because of me, not that the villagers appreciate it since I'm from the Star Clan." Black Star rubbed his face tiredly, "I don't care though, at least they're alive."

Soul dropped his head even lower; this guy's life was shit, and still he risked himself to keep other people safe. Sure, he'd do the same for Maka but that was just selfish. He loved her, he didn't want anything bad to happen to her. But that was the thing, he wouldn't do the same for anyone else, at least not before. Now suddenly he had a purpose, this runt of an assassin who didn't really seem like such a runt anymore. He was loud, obnoxious, kind of annoying, but he had heart. It wasn't just him either, it was everything he represented. The Grigories. The Villagers. Stein. Marie. Tsubaki. Maka. Everyone he held dear.

The White Haired Reaper was the embodiment of everything Wes Evans despised, all the things he told his brother never to be. And though it may have been one hundred years too late, maybe there was still time to change that persona into something that the minstrel could be proud of. Something that Black Star wouldn't be ashamed of calling a friend, something that Tsubaki wouldn't have to treat like a monster with the mentality of an insatiable child. And something that Maka could look at and not feel sadness or pity, a new side of him that could for once make her happy like she deserved to be.

That was his drive. His chest swelled, fingers curled so tightly in his palms that blood would start to drip at any minute. As if somehow knowing what to do on pure instinct and pride alone, the Reaper held his arm out high above him and with a crack of light, summoned his scythe to his hands. The noise snapped Black Star back to see him, with Soul standing there holding his new blade. The same one from before, with gold on the end and a sharper curve. It was born from his new soul and though he hadn't held it since the previous fight, somehow he had grown fond of the scythe. It was reborn, just as he was.

"A Reaper's weapon is born from their soul." His voice was commanding, powerful, "An oath on one is an oath on your life."

Black Star stared in awe at the sight, suddenly noticing just how elegant the Reaper's scythe was, "Soul-?"

"-I'm going to save Maka and while I'm at it, I'm going to put an end to everyone's suffering."

The azure-man raised a brow. "...And just how exactly are you gonna do that?"

Soul looked down at his blade and nodded, as if the thing were silently letting him know what he needed to do. Like a voice echoing within the recesses of his mind, the Reaper acknowledged what had to be done; the system could not continue as it was now, Soul Eaters should never be created again. People like him would always want more power, and some wouldn't think twice about sacrificing the lives of innocent people to do it. He was a hypocrite, yes, but that was a title he would take and bear as punishment. The same way that Black Star would bear the hatred of his clan, he too would bear the hatred of the Soul Eaters. And there was only one way to guarantee that no Grigori would ever be killed again for the sake of the Reapers, and Soul was willing to do that was well.

So he raised his scythe. Into the night sky, the blade of black and red that had killed so many, suddenly didn't seem so guilty anymore. Its metal shone in the moonlight, the stars reflected in its blade that made it glow like a beacon in the desert. Like fate was trying to tell him go on, this was the right path. Black Star for once remained absolutely still, not even his chest moving as he held his breath.

"I swear on this scythe, to Maka and everyone else who ever gave a damn about me...I will become the next Grim."


	34. The Epilogue Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a quick preface; I'm far enough along in the story to where I will be posting updates every few days. If you don't want to wait that long for chapters, feel free to look me up on ff.net and you can find this story along with its sequel (I'm debating on whether to just combine them into one story on this site. Time will tell.)

* * *

The human mind was an enigma that one such as himself could never hope to understand.

A millennium. Two. Three. It didn't really matter how long he'd been alive, since his existence could be called anything but alive. So much time spent simply taking up space on this Earth, and few times had he considered what exactly made these mortals want to do such reckless things. Love? _ Sex _? Just a few of the numerous feelings or actions that could cause oneself pain, and yet people like her always fell slave to them in the end. For The Grim, Kidd, it was a singular equation that had no answer; why would she go through all of this just to feel agony in the end? To bow her angelic wings down to him and...

...Bear his child. Another _ Evans. _ Simply the name alone was enough to cause this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, and yet that wasn't the only thing. No, the fact that even after banishing him, the white Reaper still found some way to interfere with his plans. There'd be no way to continue on his father's legacy so long as the man's spawn was inside of her, and even afterwards it'd be months before it was even safe to try. Knowing that, it was no surprise that Kidd found himself in a bitter mood. This hide-away of his wasn't doing its job, and his assistants, the Thompson Sisters, weren't making it any bit easier on him.

They stood before him as they always did, informing him of the current status of Needle Village. Despite his reserved hopefulness, it came as no surprise when Elizabeth gave him the news; a total loss, with all Reapers completely driven out or killed outright. What's more, there was no news about what had happened to Tsubaki or Soul; more than likely he'd killed her for sustenance. In any case, Kidd was out his most loyal servant and his attitude was dropping by the second. The more his assistant talked, the more he wanted to storm out of the room and obliterate that tiny nuisance of a village once and for all.

"Just tell me," he finally hissed quietly, interrupting Elizabeth's speech which was admittedly near its end anyway. "How far along is Maka?"

Patty looked to her older sister and frowned, as the latter did the same. "...Well, there's no way to know for sure but, about a month."

A whole thirty days, well within the time frame of them being in Death. Kidd's face soured at the thought; such a fact meant the two of them had been running around right under his nose this entire time, and ignorant him was too blind to see it. All his attention was devoted towards the Azure Knight and his taking over of Needle Village. The last thing on his mind was taking Maka away and fathering a child. Even now, that prospect wasn't his priority. And all because of Evans, both the name and the person, coming back to haunt him after all this time. Such bitter memories, personified into one, unborn child.

"Mr. Grim?" the youngest Thompson piped up. "How come Maka is the one you have to marry? Why not someone else?"

Still in a foul haze, Kidd looked up at the woman and sighed. "Patty, I don't have to marry anybody. We just have to have a child together."

"Well, that's silly! Humans always marry someone before they have a baby with them, duh!" Patty grinned like an idiot, making Kidd rub his face in annoyance.

Honestly, these two would be the premature death of him. The Grim let his head fall on a closed fist, eyes half hidden by black hair in order to hide them from Patricia. She was the worst of them, a child in a grown woman's body who had no concept of being a Reaper. If it wasn't for him taking her in at Elizabeth's request, she'd have been eaten up by soul eaters long ago. Either that, or sent off to some nowhere territory far away from here. Which, even The Grim could admit, would have been a bit harsh. She meant well, even though there were many times when he'd like nothing more than to banish her far, far away.

Elizabeth wouldn't have it, however. Unlike her sister, she was competent and intelligent. Though the woman never showed it; instead of doing her duties towards him, nine times out of ten she could be found worrying about her hair and nails. But, Kidd mused as he watched her flip through a clipboard full of papers, she had her moments. If there was something he truly needed, Elizabeth would get it for him. If he was upset or angry, she'd be the one to even him out or smack him on the back of the head. And though each time he swore he'd punish her for it, he wouldn't. Perhaps couldn't, would be the better term.

Which is why whenever _ she _asked a question, he listened. "Patty has a point though, Kidd. Aren't there other Grigories like her that you can...use?"

Lord Grim shook his head. "Every few hundred years, a handful of Grigories are born that are stronger than the rest. Maka's the only one I've found that fits the criteria."

Female. A strong will to live. A soul that focuses on life. Liz remembered these things from the last time Kidd explained it to her, but had no idea that finding a person could really be that hard. Part of her wanted there to be another Grigori, one that could trade places with Maka since, well, even _ she _had a problem with this plan of Lord Grim's. It needed to be done and she wasn't arguing that part, since everyone, including Patty, would die if there wasn't a successor soon. But Maka was already pregnant, and it'd be easier on everyone if they simply found another Grigori. They could start over again, and make it work this time.

"What if we found someone else to take her place? You can't tell me that _ nobody _fills the criteria besides her." Liz prodded, hoping to convince him.

But again, Kidd could only shoot her down. "Grigories all carry the catalyst for life. Me being The Grim, I am the catalyst of death. We are naturally drawn to each other."

"...That doesn't really explain anything, Kidd-" she began before being cut off by Lord Grim's palm. "Kidd?"

"These special Grigories, I've met them all. For several millennia, fate has brought them to me. The Evans brothers were no exceptions, and none had what I needed."

The eldest Thompson made a face. "I see, so that's how it is. Well, I suppose you can't make a baby with a man. Unless of course you tried with Eater...?"

Lord Grim's jaw dropped to the floor in utter disgust, left eye twitching in horror. Immediately, Elizabeth waved her hands, "It was just a joke! Sheesh."

Kidd gave a bitter scoff, waiving his assistant off with distaste before falling his head upon another fist. At that point, Liz knew that he was back to thinking again and to not disturb him while he was lost in thought. The man had much on his mind, but then again he always did. It's just that this time she knew the risks of what was involved, and why Kidd needed this done no matter what the costs. Which is why she said not a word, instead simply taking up a seat with her sister silently.

The Thompson girls both gave the other a sad look; it just felt like they should, since all this time they'd been going about everything so casually. The Grim was immortal, unparalleled in his strength, or at least that's what they always thought. Looking at him now, it still seemed to be true. He exuded power, demanded respect, and gave off an air of confidence that still showed through this cloak of uncertainty surrounding him at the moment. But Liz knew better, she _ always _knew better.

The tiniest falter as he got up from his chair was the only sign, and one that she'd admittedly overlook if it weren't for him confiding in her months before when Maka first arrived in the city. At first she was hesitant to believe him, but now Liz couldn't deny it; Kidd wasn't what he used to be. Lord Grim was starting to get tired more easily, especially since his last battle with Eater. In fact, things had been this way for about a month. One night he was fine, then all of a sudden he lost his killer edge.

He was still the strongest, though. Liz believed that much, and she'd bet anything on it. Till the day he died, which she hoped would be a very long time from then, Kidd would have no equal. That was how it should be, the way she'd known for centuries under his care. And as she spied The Grim walking towards the window, Liz hated to admit it but still did all the same; Maka was the only one who could have his child, and there needed to be an heir. So to herself, she begrudgingly accepted the thought and remained quiet despite the thought not sitting well with her in more ways than one. Kidd was determined to keep her alive, so she could at least be grateful.

"Liz, Patty." he suddenly spoke, bringing her attention back to the tall man draped in black.

"Y-Yes, Kidd?" Something was wrong, he hardly called them by their abbreviated names. "What is it?"

Lord Grim let his eyes linger at the window before turning around, "I don't believe I'll be around much longer."

Rare enough as it was, Kidd still showed emotion from time to time besides the usual annoyance with her sister. And Liz always took special notice when he did, since it always meant so much when he gave so little. A slight twinge in his expression, that tiniest fragment of what looked like sadness, it wrenched her heart into knots. Like always, she pretended not to notice and tried to convince herself that Kidd was oblivious to her empathy. But Lord Grim knew all the same, he was smart after all.

"...I thought you said time wasn't an issue." Liz replied monotonously, feeling rather numb.

Kidd looked back at her, then at the floor. "It wasn't, at least not until another Grim was made right under my nose-"

"-Another Grim!" Patty jumped up, having been silent this entire time but now very much animated. "But you said there can only be one Grim!"

Kidd rubbed his face tiredly, knowing full well that this wasn't going to be an easy thing to explain to Patricia. Luckily, her sister was there to help reel her in as he went from the window to stand before them where they sat. There would be no prolonging this explanation, since Liz wanted one more than anything and it was high time they both knew anyway. That's probably why the words came to his head so quickly, the kind that explained everything simply enough for so he wouldn't have to repeat himself.

"My title is given to the half-born son of the previous Grim. That's how my father wanted it and that's why when there's two Grim's present, the old one quickly dies off in preparation for the next."

Patty, following along but not fully comprehending, simply nodded. Her sister meanwhile nearly gasped in surprise, "But you haven't even had the chance to have a son with anybody, Kidd-!"

"-There's no law that says it has to be mine, Liz," he quietly cut her off. "This is my family's rule, but in reality any half-born child of a Reaper and Grigori is technically a Grim."

After that, silence fell between the three of them. Even the youngest Thompson could understand this much; "...So you're telling us the next Grim's already here?"

Lord Grim nodded with no energy. "It's that Evans blood inside her, I can feel it. That unborn child, already so much like his father and uncle, it's sickening."

He always sort of knew. Be it this strange connection all Grims share with each other, it was like a nagging, festering mold that slowly filled his brain with all sorts of ill ideas and worries he'd never experienced before. From the moment Maka mentioned it to Liz however, this scorn he hadn't felt in years started to bubble up through the cracks he thought he'd filled ages ago. No matter what he did or how much time passed, he couldn't escape those two brothers. Two hundred years later, even after both of them had long since died, their family still found a way to live on in the worst way possible, as his successor.

Why did fate suddenly find it necessary to revive what was best forgotten? Hadn't everyone suffered enough when those two minstrels still walked this earth, must history repeat itself yet again with another Evans slain? Kidd looked down at the table before closing his eyes at the thought of what to do next, how best to handle this challenge to his family's legacy. So long as the child was around, he'd suffer a quicker death. Quick enough to not see his own son conceived. Logically, there was only one conclusion he could come to at this point, but he dared not try it. He hated the father, but this boy was still innocent.

Still. If worse came to worst, there were always options. "I have no idea what to do at this point, girls. For the first time in my life, I have no answers for this. We're at an impasse."

The Thompson sisters looked at each other and frowned; this day was just full of firsts, wasn't it? "If there's anything we can do, Kidd, just let us know and we'll do it."

"That won't be necessary, but thank you." The Grim muttered as he collected himself, "In times like these, it's best to consult one's elders for knowledge and advice."

"Well, true. But you're The Grim, Kidd. All your elders are already dead, right...?" Liz trailed off in slow realization of something that only she knew.

Something that Lord Grim trusted only her with. "I've found and contacted the leader of Spartoi. If anyone knows what to do, it'll be him."

Liz remained motionless, really only able to blink as slowly she realized what this meant; the leader of the most dangerous men in history was back after all this time, and more than likely coming _ here _to Death. She had no idea what to expect since really she'd never met the man before. For years he'd been in hiding and Kidd had let it pass, or at least that's what he told her. Vaguely though, she had the distinct feeling that even Lord Grim would have a tough time bringing him back.

It showed through in Kidd's expression, those tiny little hints he gave her to work with whenever she tried to read him. It was kind of surprising the conclusion she came up with, when he dared not look at the two of them in the eyes and instead turned around to look out the window again. That emotion, was it...submission? No, it couldn't be, but that was the closest word she could come up with. Either way, she'd never seen The Grim act like this before and it quite frankly scared her. She put all her faith in this man to be the strongest and yet now all of a sudden, something told her that might not still be the case.

"Be sure to make preparations for his arrival, Elizabeth. To be completely honest, I'm not sure if the city can survive another visit from my dear old god-father."

* * *

By the glow of the waning sun, white hair turned red as the lone Reaper honed his rusted skills. For years he'd become complacent, going through the motions of his daily job as her protector. Day and night out, it was the same routine; watch her go to the library, the grocer, go back home and made sure she read a book or something before passing out. Maka Albarn never knew of his existence, though he knew of her routines all too well. And as Soul continued to swipe at empty air, the whistling sound of his blood-red scythe echoing throughout the lonely desert, he continued to curse himself under his breath.

He had no right to call himself her bodyguard. A stalker was all he was, since he couldn't even protect her when it mattered most.

It seethed through him, the anger. But instead of his emotions getting in the way like so long before, the opposite became true. No longer did the rage inside his heart drive the Reaper to seek out souls. Instead, it simply fueled that burning desire to see Maka one more time. His will to protect is what gave Soul Evans the push he needed to become stronger, to seek out the perfection in his skills that hadn't been seen in over a hundred years. Just a little more, that's all he needed at this point; just a little more practice, and he'd have it back. If he was going to face Kidd, he'd need that killer edge from before.

A backslash. Recover. Adjustment of the feet before spinning around again, scythe twirling in his hand. Thrust. Soul flipped his scythe up from its downward position, imagining a body being ripped apart like a corkscrew at the end of it. In his mind's eye he sneered; just because he wasn't hungry for souls anymore, didn't mean he wasn't interested in ripping them out of somebody. On the outside though he remained calm, he had to be. No being side tracked by anything, he had a job to do. Pull back. Turn around, scythe in the air to follow him. Follow up with butt of the scythe. Spin. Smash with the head.

_ "You're doing so well, Evans. But this is paltry compared to the power I can offer you, we both know that." _

He was back again, the damn demon. Haunting his thoughts like a phantom, almost so real that Soul could swear he was standing there with him in the now star-filled desert. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, but no matter the answer it didn't change the fact that he was there all the same. Every swipe of his scythe, every feinted motion or technique, the demon was there at the end of his blade. Smiling, grinning, always trying to entice him into selling the one thing he had left. His Grigori soul was the ticket to power he needed, the only thing allowing him to resonate. He wouldn't sell it.

"I'm busy," the Reaper called into the night. Whether or not anyone was really there, it didn't matter in the end anyway.

Silence was his only reply. Then all of a sudden he was there again, grinning as always. _ "Now, now. You'll never become Grim with that attitude." _

The demon was in his head. Everything Soul thought about became fuel for the red man's fire. Conversations with his friends were nothing more than a show to him now, some form of cheap entertainment that occasionally gave the bastard something to hold over his head. The fight he'd had with Tsubaki was especially pleasing to him, since now he could whisper all kinds of poison into his ear regarding her affections for him; _ you're quite the ladies man, _ or, _ the woman's a tramp, you'd might as well use her for all she's worth. _Anything to get the blood boiling inside him again, to make him lose control of his senses.

Under-arc. Kick the sand up. Strike. It wouldn't work on him anymore, his mind was clear now. For once, the Reaper's soul was at ease. He didn't worry about what might happen to him, didn't really care if he ended up dying at the end of this twisted story they all found themselves in. The demon could sense this and despite his enticing grin, Soul knew he was pissed. It showed through as he trained, the annoyed glint in his eyes that grew with each passing second he was ignored. Over-arc. Stick the scythe. Rip the enemy in two. Soul imagined it was the demon at the end of his blade and enjoyed it.

_ "You're so smug, how quaint," _ the man with horns sneered, noticeably annoyed. _ "Yes, you know everything. Although you seem to forget you have a girl to save, Evans. _

From the corner of his eye, Soul glared at his unwanted company. Again he swiped at the sky, "Maka's not some pushover. She knows I'd never leave her."

_ "Touching. And yet again, I see you fail to grasp the gravity of this situation. How many times must I tell you; she's not the only one you have to save." _

"You keep saying that! Just what the fuck do you mean?" the Reaper suddenly growled, his concentration broken for good this time.

Once more, the silver tongued demon yielded another smile. _ "That's funny. I thought you didn't want my help anymore?" _

Angry, the white Reaper took his blade to the horned-man's body. But instead of ripping through him like he thought it would, his scythe simply passed through him as if nothing happened. The demon in turn cackled as his body rippled away like water, leaving nothing more than empty space for Soul to scowl at as the laughing continued just out of sight. It seemed to come from all directions, though he knew by now that it wasn't just outside; this demon was slowly working its way into his being, becoming a part of his thoughts and conscious. Really there was no one there, but at the same time there was.

He appeared again, the bastard. Right behind him, still wearing that shit-eating grin of superiority. As soon as Soul spun around and eyed him, his patience reached its limit. With a roar, the Reaper held his blade in front of him as darkness slowly closed in around the two of them. The demon raised a brow at the display, slightly taken aback by the loss of light and sudden lack of vision around them. As if both were encased in some kind of dark shell, there was nothing more to do than watch the white Reaper display the power he'd given him. This was his resonance, to be sure, and it was certainly impressive.

From Soul’s feet came tendrils; first two or three, then quickly the numbered multiplied. Six, twelve, twenty-four, the count went on and on. Soon it wasn't just the two of them in that blackened case, but an immeasurable amount of shadowy appendages as well. All of them stemmed from the Reaper's lone shadow and all of them reeking the odorous stenches of hell, the demon seemed rather pleased at the display. Meanwhile, Soul stared him down with a red-eyed glare so poisonous that snakes would have cowered from him. But the lone spectator, however, gave only a smile.

"Look at this power, dammit!" the white Reaper shouted, his body like a brick wall. "Tell me I can't kill The Grim when even the shadows want him dead!"

Amidst the sounds of writhing tentacles, not a sound came. Then all of a sudden he got his reply, "Look at those same shadows, Evans...and tell me they're not born from your dead, hell-tempered heart."


	35. The Epilogue Part II

Soul froze. The tentacles froze. Everything came to a halt. Soul's expression was the only thing to move in that heart of darkness, his immediate mortification bringing the demon that last bit of satisfaction he needed before leaving him for good. Mouth agape and eyes wild with fear, the Reaper watched his evil acquaintance leave with ease despite being trapped like a rat. His maniacal, hiss of a laugh echoed within the shadowed walls as he disappeared, leaving him by his lonesome with only the company of monstrous tendrils. Still stuck in place, he dared not look at those shadows now. All of a sudden, they disgusted him.

Without a sound, the darkness around the white Reaper started to recede back into him. The black shell that surrounded him began breaking apart like glass in the desert wind, entire chunks of the sphere becoming lost to the night. At the same time, the tendrils began to shrink and combine back into his lowly shadow on the floor. Scarred, Soul stared out into open space as his resonance collapsed in on itself. He failed to notice that just outside stood a familiar face, waiting on him with a worried look as the last pieces of his inner-evil finally melted away. By the time all was finished, it was just the two of them there.

She looked at the ground; his stare happened to be directly on her. "Stein and Marie asked me to go fetch you. I can see you're busy, though."

It took him a moment, but finally Soul realized he wasn't alone, "Oh, Tsubaki...no, I'm done training. What did they need me for?"

"They didn't say," she replied quietly, looking the other way. "If you want, I can just leave and tell them you're coming...?"

Soul shook his head immediately, not wanting to send her away like that. On the other hand, this was the most they'd talked since he last apologized to her; it was awkward to say the least, though knew it must have been doubly so for Tsubaki. He'd make an effort to fix that, which is why, despite the thoughts swirling in his head at the moment, Soul still took up his scythe up and walked towards her. An obvious flinch wracked her the second he came near, but she relaxed upon feeling his hand clasp her shoulder gently. It stayed there until she got the nerve to look him in the eye, and held on tighter when she finally did.

"What's with the face?" he gave a reassuring smile, for the first time in a long time. "I'm ready when you are."

It took a moment, but that softness he'd come to expect from her suddenly returned at the gentle tone of his voice. She gave a reserved nod and smiled back before turning around to lead the way back to Stein and Marie. Meanwhile, Soul followed close behind, thankful that he hadn't lost a friend all those days ago. Tsubaki had still been nice enough to do his laundry and even once made him breakfast with Marie before training, but for the most part she'd avoided him whenever possible. He really had no idea what Tsubaki had been up to. In fact, not even Black Star had seen much of her in the days past; for all intents and purposes, she'd become a recluse.

She felt guilty and Soul knew that, but he didn't want her to. In the end, he knew it was his fault for losing his cool the way that he did. Regardless of what may have happened a hundred years ago, Tsubaki really had tried her best to be there for him. She was sweet, kind, and a good friend; not the backstabber that he'd made her out to be. All the more reason why he tried to be softer with her, at least until that trust between them returned. Or even afterwards. Maybe, he could be less of an ass in general? Things were changing, _he _was changing, so the attitude thing could use some adjusting as well-

_"-You can't walk away, Soul. We're friends now, till the day you join me in the fires once more. And as your friend, let me just say, you should seriously start to consider why hell wanted you in the first place."_

The Reaper spun around, mouth agape in surprise. Tsubaki didn't notice and continued to walk away as he was left there standing alone in the dark sands, expecting to find the demon there waiting for him with his signature grin. But there was no body, not even a face. The only thing to greet him was kicking winds, the first signs of a rare desert storm as it started to pick up in the distance. He remained motionless for a little while longer, trying his damnedest to look for any signs of life out there. Soon though, it became apparent that only he and Tsubaki were left, the latter of which was already almost at the village. Soul sucked in air through sharpened teeth and shook his head, deciding to catch up with her before the rains beat him there.

Village lanterns shuddered from the sudden gusts as they approached. The rows of hobbled shacks provided a small wind-break that offered a brief respite, and served the added bonus of keeping sand from getting in their eyes. Thankfully heir destination wasn't too far off; amidst broken down homes, only one stood proudly and well built above the others. An actual house, belonging to none other than Stein and Marie. They walked up to it silently, if only because it was hard to speak up above the changing weather around them. In the background, a few bolts of lightning struck the ground and rumbled the earth beneath their feet.

By the time Soul an Tsubaki reached the door, the storm was already upon them. Inside things were much calmer. The soft glow of a light down the hallway served as a beacon to guide them towards Stein and Marie. They paused before following it, however, because in one of the rooms just down the hall, the sound of someone laughing caught their attention. It sound much like Stein's voice, though it was definitely a man. Deep, rumbling...whoever it was, their laughter was enough to give the thunder outside a run for its money. Soul looked to Tsubaki and raised a brow.

"Company?" he inquired, slightly surprised that Stein of all people would have visitors at this late an hour.

Tsubaki couldn't give him an answer; only a shrug, and a confused one at that. "I didn't know anyone else was here..."

The pair made their way down the hall, careful as to not make their presence known. It sounded like whoever was there was having a good time, and in Needle Village no less. That in itself was strange, but then again strange things happened all the time with them. So, curiosity getting the better of them, Soul and Tsubaki crept down the wooded floor like two children sneaking out at curfew. Their ears focused on the voice, though neither could make out what the man was saying. Actually, it didn't sound like anyone was saying anything. Just that man, by himself, laughing like he owned the place.

Wwhen they approached the open archway that led into the dining area, both Reapers poked their heads out to see who it was. Stein and Marie sat at the far end of the dinner table facing them, while a stranger sat opposite them with his back turned towards Soul and Tsubaki. It could have been anyone in the village over for a late dinner for all she knew, and Stein didn't seem to mind the situation much. Marie was a different story though, and she seemed a little bit uncomfortable.

"I wonder who that person is?" Tsubaki whispered, eyes glued to the scene. She continued to stare, until she realized silence was her only reply, "What do you think, Soul...?"

She turned her head, but became bewildered when the white Reaper wasn't by her side. Tsubaki turned back to the guest, and she immediately threw a hand over her mouth when all she saw was Soul standing behind him. Unannounced, silent, looming over the laughing stranger with his scythe clutched firmly in both hands. Across the table, Stein raised a brow at the display while Marie mimicked Tsubaki, all three of them surprised at Soul's presence. Really, only the stranger didn't know who stood behind him. He simply dug into his plate of food and chuckled merrily, at least until he was interrupted.

"Free..." Soul muttered, head hung low. "...Tell me it's not you."

All of a sudden, the laughing man dropped his fork. His ears perked at the sound of Soul's voice, not unlike that of a dog. For a moment he remained still, then quickly turned around to see who it was behind him. An audible gasp could be heard from both him and Soul, their eyes meeting together for the first time in a century. From far away, Tsubaki mimicked both of them. That face...it was the last thing she'd ever expect to see in Stein's house. The man hopped to his feet and grinned excitedly. Giant teeth, sharper than Soul's and twice as menacing, made it clear to anyone who didn't already know that he was a soul eater. His huge frame complimented them all too well; Free towered over Soul like a parent to a child, though the old raggedy clothes he wore served to make him seem just a little bit smaller. Above everything else though...that left eye of his. He kept it covered with a string of bandages, adorned with strange markings and words in a language that only Soul and Stein had seen before.

"Eater!" he replied with a friendly punch to Soul's arm. "Last time I saw you, you were just a newblood! Gnawing on Grigori souls like a puppy, it was cute."

"What are you doing here, Free?" the Soul asked evenly. From behind him, Tsubaki made note of the slight twitch in his muscles where he'd been punched; it had hurt, _a lot._

It was to be expected, all things considering. "Well that's a long story. Short version is, Kidd called me up for advice. I smelled some Grigories on the way over and stopped for a snack, but her cooking will do."

Free motioned to Marie behind him with his thumb and the poor woman flinched, completely frozen by the strangers mentioning of her. At the same time, the man's ears perked as if sensing her immediate terror, and it wasn't a second later that he turned around to grin at her. She stared at him and he stared back, the latter of whom continued to smile despite an obvious twitch in his nose that made it seem as though he was sniffing at her very essence. The scene was almost too much for Tsubaki, but it didn't last long under the supervision of Professor Stein. Taking off his glasses, the scholar promptly stood up.

"I said you could eat here and be on your way, so long as you didn't go near the Grigories." He spoke distantly, but there was an annoyance in his tone to be sure.

"Of course! Thank you for the hospitality!" Free chimed back pleasantly, yet his eyes still leered over Marie, "But you know, it's kind of hard to keep my hunger in check around her-"

Stein's face twisted in a flash; with a menacing look, everyone including Free knew the good professor was pissed. "If you so much as think about touching her, I will show you firsthand why The Grim fears me."

Put off for a second, Free quickly conceded. He held his hands up in defeat, breaking his stare with another grin. Watching the entire thing play out, Soul clenched his fist. He didn't really know how strong Stein was but...Free was something else, and he shuddered to think what would happen if a three-way brawl broke out in Needle Village. No matter the situation, he couldn't let anything like that happen. No doubt Black Star and Tsubaki would get involved too and, well, the ending wouldn't be pleasant. No, he needed to reel things in before they got out of hand. Soul stood straight and, with every ounce of himself, grabbed Free by the shoulder and turned him around so they could face each other.

Both stood tall, but not on equal terms. Though Free was an oddball, he a presence that Soul simply couldn't match. On a dime, Free's expression changed from playful to serious. That lighthearted, carefree attitude shattered as the white Reaper stared him down. Eyes narrowed, chest tight, the hair on the back of Soul's neck stood straight as he tried in vain to stand up to the hulking Reaper; despite all his strength and pride, Eater, _The Grim's_ _Strongest, _clearly looked the weaker of the two. Tsubaki knew how it would all turn out, but even she couldn't believe how quickly Soul was forced into silent submission. Free simply took a step forward and that was the end of it, just like that. Soul's eyes wavered to the floor and let his head hang low; he was beat.

Marie opened her mouth to say something, but Stein silenced her with his hand. They, along with Tsubaki, watched quietly from the sidelines, all three mesmerized as Free relented his harsh stare by a degree. Soul's fists curled as the scythe in his hands dissipated pitifully, though said not a word as Free started to circle around him slowly. Again, it was a strange sight, but Tsubaki knew Soul had no say in the matter. She shuddered at the thought of these two men being like wolves, struggling for dominance and clearly one of them had lost. 

"I smell Grigori on you, boy. What did you do?" Free growled, sniffing the air as he went. " Something's got Kidd's panties in a bunch, and I figure you must be behind it."

Soul remained stiff, eyes narrowed to the floor in thought. "He put me in charge of a Grigori and I fucked it up, let's just leave it at that."

"You mean you fucked _her_," the beast-man rumbled, smiling when Soul's head shot up. "I was talking 'bout that stench reeking from your chest, Eater. Everyone already knows about the girl."

Free stuck his finger where Soul's heart was, making a point to prod him repeatedly. The white Reaper stared for a moment, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Then of course it all hit him at once; the demon, his human soul, his resonance. It must have been noticeable to other soul eaters and even more so for Free, since the man was just plain better at detecting souls than anyone else. It was that nose of his, more animal than human, that people truly ended up fearing. He could find someone no matter where they went or how far they ran, and rip them to shreds upon arrival.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Soul replied, not wanting to go into detail. Hopefully he wouldn't have to explain himself further.

Thankfully, Free just nodded. He relaxed a bit. "Your soul's different. That's probably got something to do with it."

"Things are different in general," The Reaper mumbled. "I'm banished. Maka's with Kidd, and I have no way of getting her back."

Free's ears suddenly perked up again, and a smirk ripped across his lips. "Oh, so that's what my godson's all worked up about."

Soul nodded casually back. Tsubaki barely batted an eye, though it ended up being Professor Stein who became noticeably surprised. His brows twisted with unbridled interest; Kidd had a godfather? A s_oul eater,_ no less? But that technically shouldn't be possible, The Grim was the one who created Reapers in the first place. He was the embodiment of death itself and therefore one of the oldest beings on the planet, meaning this particular Reaper must have been around long before that. Stein looked to Marie, whom of course had no opinion on the matter. But still, she could tell from his face that whatever was going on wasn't good. She frowned.

"You already know what I'm going to say, Free." Soul stared straight into Free's eyes, no weakness this time.

"Save the girl, kill my godson," Free grinned, surprising everyone in the room. He shrugged. "I've been around a long time, I've heard it all."

Soul's eyes twisted in confusion; why the hell was he grinning? "You seem pretty nonchalant about all this...mind telling me why?"

Free just shook his head in amusement. From out behind him, he pulled out a chair from the table and landed atop it with a thud. The wood floors cracked a bit underneath his own weight; everyone save for Stein flinched, while the professor muttered in annoyance about another thing he had to fix in the house. If Free heard, it wasn't apparent. He seemed quite content in taking his time answering Soul's question, and even reached behind him to take an apple from a fruit basket at the center of the table. He stared at Soul as he took one bite, then a second. That's all it took for the fruit to become a stump. 

He tossed the core onto a plate behind him and burped, "Look, y'know I'm not leader material, but I can tell you right now that _neither_ of you could take me in a fight."

Soul's eyes narrowed. "If you're talking about Giriko, I could wipe the grin off that fucker's face permanently. He's no threat to me."

"The way I see it, both of you are tied for third in Spartoi," Free growled condescendingly. "There is no second spot in our trio."

"Are you saying I'm weak?" Soul shot back angrily. Free stood up, and immediately the white Reaper grew quiet.

"If we fought right now, I would destroy you." Soul's eye twitched when Free came to him, but all the man did was grab his shoulder. "I would rip out your soul, and eat it in front of you."

Silence fell between them, and thus the entire room did as well. Free sighed, patting his young acquaintance on the shoulder. It wasn't easy for him to break bad news to the guy; by and large he was Free's favorite. Giriko was a psychotic piece of shit who'd stab him in the back in a heartbeat, assuming the bastard could even lay a finger on him in the first place. But Eater, _Soul,_ had a good heart. Suave, confident, what wasn't to like about him? Also he was loyal, so much so that he'd given up his humanity for someone else, even if things hard turned out sour for him in the end. Free thought about it again and gave a noticeable scowl to himself.

Kidd was his godson, as was requested of someone far more powerful than either of them put together. It wasn't against his will either; if anything, he and Soul were more alike than the little runt could ever know. Things were changing though, more so now than ever before. For the first time in a century, Sparoti was converging on the same desert once more. Kidd was actually starting show human emotions now, like fear and anger. It was a little concerning, especially when he considered that there was a Grigori woman who could raise the dead now, and on top of that a Reaper with a Grigori soul-

_-A Reaper with a Grigori soul, and a woman who could raise the dead._

Oh.

Oh, he was an _idiot_. God, he was a fucking _idiot! _Of course! That's how all of this was going to get resolved, why didn't he see it sooner? For the first time in untold millenia, there was a way to fulfill his duties and then some! Free couldn't contain the feeling of pure excitement rumbling in his stomach; he started laughing. It was awkward to say the least; the entire room silent and bewildered aside from his boisterous rumbling, but he didn't care. Soul stared at him like he was some sort of maniac but, again, he didn't care. All he thought about was the end result to all this. It made him giddy. Finally, there was someone who could do it.

But there was a long road ahead of him. "Okay, Eater! Tell you what, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, okay?"

"...Alright?" Soul blinked, taking an extra step backwards for good measure. Free was acting weirder than usual.

He brought him in close, a deceivingly bright smile tugging at his lips. "There's going to be a war soon, I can almost guarantee it."

The Reaper stood dead still for a second, cocking his head slightly in apprehension. "Are you serious? There hasn't been a war since the witch hunts."

"Exactly, which is why Kidd's calling in _everyone,_ Spartoi included," Free explained, his smile waning to a smirk. "He wants your head, Soul. The Azure Knight's, too, and it's going to take an army to do it."

Free reached into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper that looked old and worn out. Free waived it in the air and stuck it directly in the Soul's face, the latter of which snatched the thing up with a scowl. His expression quickly fell at the sight of a skull-marked seal pressed into the paper itself, ripped in half by Free's earlier opening of it. Immediately he knew who it was; Kidd had sent this letter, _personally. _He flipped the thing open and grazed over the words, starting with "_Your favorite's gone rogue". _Free watched as Soul's face grew more serious with every pass of his eyes over the paper. A look of excitement slowly started to spread across the hulking Reaper's face; nothing in that letter was good, at least not for Soul, anyway. But to Free it was exciting. A war for the first time in a hundred years. Every Reaper called upon to take down one of their own. Some good stuff. Definitely movie worthy!

Soul crumbled the paper and tossed it aside the second he was finished with it. "Why not kill me now, Free? You said you could do it, why not save everyone some grief?"

"Because you're not alone anymore," Free replied matter-of-factually, motioning to everyone gathered. "I can smell them, they're all pretty good at fighting."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Free! You could take down an entire country if you wanted to, at least give me the truth!"

The man sighed, as if it were obvious, "I am telling the truth, Soul. You have the Grigories protecting you now, they're a lot stronger than you give them credit for."

Free sought to prove his point. He looked at his comrade and sneered, causing Soul's eyes to widen in terror at the knowing of what came next. In an instant, the entire room erupted into a bustle of commotion; the table that both Marie and Stein sat at was flung to the side, a chair flew across the room, screeches of feet against slippery floors. The sounds were overwhelming, so much so that by the time Soul had blinked, everything was out of order. He gaped at the sight before him, that of Free's fist mere inches away from his face. The only thing that separated the two of them was another man's hand and a single point of steel, along with two sets of solid, burning eyes.

It was Stein who parried the blow, like a teacher to a student. With little effort, he caught Free's arm at the last possible moment. Behind him was some wrecked furniture in a pathway of destruction that thankfully wasn't meant for him, although he wasn't the only one. Underneath crouched Tsubaki, her blade drawn in a lightning's flash to just barely graze the hulking Reaper's torso. Her face bore nothing but cold, killing intent, just like the Night Stalker she used to be. Both of them jumped to Soul's aid quicker than he could have realized, and the results seemed to please Free immensely. Frozen in place by Tsubaki's blade, all he could do was grin heartily.

"I remember you," the beastly man mused, all of his attention on Tsubaki. "The heiress who became an assassin, it's been a while since I've smelled you."

Prodding him with the tip of her blade, she gave Free her response. "If you threaten my friend again, I'll gut you like the beast you are."

"And you," he directed towards Stein, completely ignoring Tsubaki's threats. "I'm impressed that a human could stop my punch. Even though it was weak."

"I think it's time for you to go, Free." The professor gripped his captive's arm tightly, stressing his point with the slightest twinge of pain.

Finally, Free acknowledged them. "Yeah, I suppose it's time. I've got a date with a family member, y'know how it goes."

Both men relenting at the same time, it was Free who ultimately broke off the engagement. He pried his arm away from the professor's hand and turned away from Tsubaki's blade, all without sparing another glance back at Soul. Through it all the white Reaper remained silent, a good portion of it being because he never knew just how much he could depend on the people around him. Tsubaki was willing to lay down her life for him, even after everything that'd happened between them. And Stein, a complete stranger, was just as eager to do the same. He didn't know what kind of motivation spurred the professor to do something like this, but in the end it didn't matter. They were there for him, Marie included; by the way she at looked at Free as he headed for the door, Soul knew her dedication to him. Such a pretty, sweet face...he never knew it could scowl so well.

Soul still had questions though, and a lot of them at that. It didn't matter how many Grigories there were; if Free wanted to he could have leveled this entire village to the ground, and there was nothing Soul could have done to stop him. There was a reason why he was here, why he spared them, and it was bigger than he could ever hope to figure out on his own. If he were to ask Free then and there and demand he tell the truth, Soul knew all he'd get would be a shit-eating grin in response. 

"You've gotten strong, _White Haired Reaper_," Free muttered from down the hallway, just before the creak of a door could be heard, "And I know how you can get even stronger."

Soul froze in place, garnering the attention of everyone around him. Free was toying with him. "...Then please, tell me. I need to know."

"First tell me why," Free bellowed, the sounds of gusting winds and sand echoing the sound of his voice. "You're less proud than before. Less arrogant."

"I don't need pride anymore, I don't care about that" Soul ground out. He clenched his fists tightly. "All I want is Maka. I'd get on my knees and beg if it meant I could have her back."

A moment of silence fell, interrupted only by the battering weather outside. Then, all of a sudden, laughter. "That's what I wanted to hear!"

Soul stood up straighter, ready for anything and everything. "If you're satisfied, then tell me what I have to do, Free."

He expected some sort of instructions. Some kind of advice. But all he got was, "In Shinigami's name, The Grim will hunt."

And before Soul could ask further, the conversation ended. His shoulders sunk at the sound of a closing door, the terrible wind outside silenced for good. Left standing there with friends, everybody looked at each other and did nothing more than shake their heads. Only Soul could stay slightly hopeful at the cryptic message that Free had given him; it didn't make any sense, but then again the man wouldn't lie to him about something like this. If only he'd had more time to talk, maybe they could've gotten more out of him. The hell did that even mean? The Grim will hunt; hunt what? And why bring _him_ into this? That old fuck was long since dead.

"Soul, who was that man?" Marie finally spoke up to break the silence, along with Soul's distant thoughts. "Is he really The Grim's godfather?"

The white Reaper blinked. He thought for a moment, and shook his head. "That's the man who taught me how to fight, Marie." 

She remained silent, hoping Soul would clarify. Eventually he did, albeit it quietly. "The Ice Wolf, the first Reaper, he's got so many titles it's hard to keep up with. But, yeah, he's Kidd's godfather, and Shinigami's right-hand man."

For thousands of years he'd walked the earth. For thousands of years, he was the strongest Reaper alive. Soul truly believed it with all his heart; Free was strong enough to level an entire country in one night. To get to Maka, Soul needed to get through Kidd, but in order to get through Kidd, he had to get through Free first. His biggest obstacle would be the person who'd led him and Giriko for close to a century before suddenly disappearing. His return meant that Spartoi was getting ever closer to meeting again, and that was the one thing he feared more than anything, above even The Grim. 

If all three of them met on the battlefield at the same time, there'd be nothing left in the desert. He wouldn't be able to strop Free or Giriko; at his current strength, all Soul could do was prolong the fight long enough to watch everything around him burn to the ground. And all that would remain was Death, completely unharmed in its cozy little shell, leaving Kidd to do whatever it was he wanted with Maka. There'd be no one to stop him if he died, which is why he needed to prepare. Soul was strong, but just not strong enough.

The Grim will hunt. Whatever that meant, it was the clue that he needed to unlock this strength Free was talking about. If it had anything to do with Shinigami, Kidd's father, then it had to be powerful. Maybe strong enough to help him do what he promised to do; end everyone's suffering once and for all. No matter how long it took, he needed to find out what this message meant. It was the only thing left, his last chance at overthrowing The Grim and taking his place. For Maka and for everyone else, that was all he needed to hear.

"Stein, Marie, I need you to get Black Star for me," the Reaper muttered, summoning his scythe at the same time. "The two of us are going on a little trip."

Stein raised a brow before looking to Tsubaki. She likewise shot him a look of complete bewilderment. "And where exactly do you intend to go?"

"Maka's house, back to Loew," Soul muttered. He looked at himself in the cold steel of his blade and ironed his resolve. "There's something there I need to pick up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever to edit. Also corona is a thing and I'm horrible at keeping on schedule, sooo...my bad.  
I've decided to combine the sequel into this one. You'll be able to tell by how the chapters are named differently and I'll clarify in the next chapter, but honestly they flow pretty well anyway. Just a bit of a time skip.


	36. Sharpen the Blades of Your Soul

** _Three Months Later..._ **

They came into town as if nothing were out of the ordinary. But for the people who lived in this rundown village of needles, probably nothing could've been farther from the truth.

He had no way of knowing just what exactly was running through these villagers minds. They walked in casually, as if through the imaginary front door of a place Lord Grim himself had lorded over some three months before. The looks on their faces was anything but welcoming, and he could tell just from the fear in their eyes that they were not welcome. High above them, the sun beat down on the lowly group of four heralds as they continued their miserable trek into what was now enemy territory. Their mission was simple and clear. Hopefully, there would be little resistance.

That's what the shaggy-headed man out in front had told him, the one who took point and headed this operation of theirs. He was supposed to be strong, at least that's what the _other_ man told him; the Reaper with a bandage over his left eye. So far that seemed true enough, considering they were walking through Needle Village alive and unharmed. All the more impressive considering that Dengu Dinga, newly appointed assassin to Lord Grim, wasn't even one of _those _Reapers; he didn't eat souls like the bandaged man did. In fact, neither did the rest of their group, including himself. The weak one. The skinny one. Why The Grim even put him on this mission was a mystery to the boy, and the more he thought about it the more he scratched his messy pink hair in confusion. He didn't like not knowing things. He didn't know how to deal with it.

"Crona, stay focused." Dengu looked over his shoulder and gave the young Reaper a stern warning, "I'll not have my appointment to Spartoi become an empty title."

Behind the others and already weary, Crona swallowed the growing lump in his throat and nodded absently. The only ones truly paying attention to him were the scared onlookers that watched them walk through the village, though most did so through the windows of shacks they called homes. Turning this way and that, Crona looked and frowned at the commotion they caused; all of this attention wasn't good for a sneak attack. Then again, he didn't even know if that's what they were doing. Nobody told him anything important, because _he_ wasn't important.

Cannon fodder. That's what one of the other men called him as they walked through the sandy streets. Cannon fodder. His laugh was muffled by his cloak, but even then Crona didn't like it when people laughed at others for no reason. Was there something funny about this situation that he didn't understand? Maybe it was because he'd only just become a Reaper, he wasn't old like the other ones. In fact, Mr. Dinga was an old acquaintance of the man they were sent to kill. And that man was...two hundred years old, right? He must look so clammy...

"...Why is nobody attacking us, sir?" Crona piped up from behind, twiddling his thumbs under the gazes of so many frightened people.

Dengu shook his head and tossed the young Reaper a glance. "Because they're just Grigories, newblood. The only one you have to worry about is the Azure Knight."

Crona looked down at the sand and gulped yet again; he'd forgotten about the Azure Knight. That was the other man they were tasked with killing, him and the Reaper named Eater. But how was he supposed to do that when he'd never even fought someone before? All these thoughts, it hurt his brain. The boy grabbed his head and shook it feverishly, groaning to himself as the others rolled their eyes. They didn't like it when he started doing things like these; they said it was a mistake to bring him along, and Crona would agree with them. He couldn't help it though. Just like the man in bandages said, he was nuts.

Still preoccupied with the bizarre conflict happening within his own skull, the pink haired soldier continued to trudge without even realizing the others had stopped. Attention elsewhere, he ended up smacking into the men in front of him as they'd come to a dead halt outside a house in the middle of the village. They hissed at him to watch where he was going, and as he fell to the ground poor Crona got the picture. He shook himself out of the trance-like state he found himself in and turned his eyes towards the imposing structure before them.

If he wasn't already on his butt, he would have fallen on it anyway. It wasn't big like Gallows Manor back in Death City, but it was still a whole lot better than any of the other buildings surrounding them. And the weird part was, it kind of looked like it was stitched together with...well, stitches. He couldn't believe something like that could exist in this dried up old desert, much less in Needle Village where everything was supposed to be rundown. In fact, it slightly scared him; how was he supposed to deal with something like this? He couldn't.

It wasn't possible. "Mr. Dinga! Is this where they're staying?"

"If so, then not for much longer," the leader rumbled, his voice smooth and hard as rock.

Crona picked himself up and dusted the sand off his clothes. "But I don't even know how to fight! I don't know how I can help-!"

"-Just stay out of our way," Dengu commanded, motioning for the others to take their positions. "So long as the job gets done, we might let you take some credit."

The other two men went around the sides of the house, both their faces hidden behind white satin cloth. They folded their arms and remained steadfast in case of their target's escape, while their leader, Dengu, took point at the doorstep. Totally emotionless and seemingly afraid of nothing, the tall Reaper made his way towards the door in confident strides. Stuck at the sidelines, Crona watched his superior take a solid fist and slam on the door so hard he was afraid it would eventually fall over. It continued for longer than what was appropriate, but after a few minutes of unceasingly beating on the thing, Dengu finally stopped. Immediately he hopped backwards and readied himself for anything in the unlikely event someone would come to the door.

To Crona's surprise, someone did answer. It wasn't Eater, though. _"The hell's with all the noise! It's half-past noon, people are trying to sleep!"_

Lord Grim's heralds all snapped to attention as the door suddenly flew open, revealing a shabby looking blue-haired man wearing not much on besides some cloth underwear that had seen one too many days. In utter horror, Crona turned the other way as his face quickly boiled bright red. He couldn't see the other Reaper's reactions since they wore those hoods, but just by the way they cringed too he knew they were mortified as well. Even stalwart Dengu, the newly christened member of the once infamous Spartoi, shuddered at the sight of it all.

"I take it..._you're _the Azure Knight?" the lanky Reaper asked. By now had already collected himself. "The blue hair on your head is a dead giveaway-"

"-No shit, genius! You Reapers are all getting dumber by the day, I swear. At least the ones from a couple months back didn't make this much noise right before I killed them..."

Reluctantly, Crona slowly forced himself to turn back to the Azure Knight out of curiosity. He wanted to see what kind of man could kill dozens of Lord Grim's most powerful soldiers, soul eaters, like they were nothing more than flies. Despite that, he still found himself red in the face at the sight of the nearly naked man and cringed the entire time he looked him over. Solid muscle was the only way to describe the Grigori, which was a far cry from every other one he'd seen before. Though still young compared to everyone else, he knew that Grigories were nothing more than food for Reapers to become stronger. They were supposed to be weak, defenseless, which is why Lord Grim didn't have any trouble controlling all villages throughout the desert.

But this man was different. He wasn't very tall, especially when standing right next to Dengu, but there was this strange look to his eyes that Crona couldn't understand even if he wanted to. It was like despite being surrounded on all sides by Reapers sent to kill him, there wasn't an ounce of fear anywhere in those green pupils of his. In fact, it was almost like he _enjoyed_ having this much attention on him, and it was for that reason that Crona couldn't comprehend this man. For what reason would there be to make oneself known like that? It didn't make sense.

"Before I rip your spine out, tell me where Eater is hiding," Dengu commanded with a resonating rumble. "Don't test my patience. We'll find him either way."

The Azure Knight raised a brow, taken aback for a second. Then, without warning, his face erupted into a devious smile. "Oh, you think he's hiding?"

"Tell me where the traitor is, Black of the Star Clan. Members of Spartoi are obligated to deal with their own," the Reaper growled confidently.

"Members of Spartoi...?" he repeated, slowly coming to some sort of realization. "Sounds interesting. I'm sure Soul would love to talk to you about that."

"Then tell us where he is dammit!" Dengu started to shout. "I'm starting to get sick of this runaround-!"

It happened so fast, Crona didn't know how to react. The others should have caught it, but even they didn't realize what was happening until there was a plume of sand that flew high into the air where Dengu had been standing just moments before. All they saw was their leader being pounced on by a streak of white, followed by two bodies as they careened to the floor. Dengu became pinned by an imposing figure that loomed over him; he choked, desperate for air as whatever it was clenched his throat with eager hands. Crona screamed for his superior as he suddenly got a flash of the attacker's face, because whoever it was frightened him like nothing else.

Teeth. Fangs. Whatever they were, they lined up neatly in the stranger's jaws and looked sharp enough to cut though steel. Eyes redder than blood shifted in the man's head and zeroed in on his captured prey. The expression on his face alone was enough to make anyone quake with fear, but maybe the scariest thing to Crona was that hair of his; snowy and fair, so white that clouds must have been jealous of him. That in itself was the final straw for the young Reaper, because even though he wasn't smart like the others he knew exactly who this person was. He'd heard stories about him. Heard the things he did a long time ago. Heard what he did to people he didn't like.

He took out their soul and ate it in front of them.

The White Haired Reaper. That's what they called him.

Lord Grim's strongest, his name was Eater. Now he remembered. The one person who made The Grim mad enough to make him the first Reaper exiled in shame. It was this man, the one hovering over his superior, that they tasked with killing. Crona couldn't stop shaking, his entire body locked in place as stressful tears started to well up in his eyes. There was no way to kill a Reaper like that, not even Mr. Dinga could hope to do such a thing. And as the other men ran towards him in a desperate scramble, the young Reaper already knew where things were headed. He was distraught.

"Dengu Dinga," the white Reaper hummed, almost fondly. His grip on the man's throat only tightened. "The hell are you doing here?"

Trying to respond as best he could, Dengu choked on his words. "Lord Grim...! Appointed...Spartoi, me-!"

"-Yeah, I heard that part," Eater cut him off as he leaned down to growl in Dengu's face. "Don't care about that-"

It looked like he was about to say more, but his time talking was cut short as the other men came towards them quicker than lightning. Slightly surprised, Eater promptly released his prey before spinning around to face the oncoming Reapers. He just stood there with his hands at his sides, making a point to not even raise a finger. Crona thought for sure their mission was already going to be over, but again he was proven wrong when both men threw their punches at the white Reaper. With calculating eyes, Eater displayed why all their efforts were useless.

His eyes twisted. In that moment, he could see al their movements. Eater dodged with minimal effort; so subtly it seemed as though he hadn't moved at all. The punches flew towards either side and missed him completely, albeit it with just inches to spare. Dengu's men froze in place, realizing immediately the amount of trouble they were now in. And as they raised their heads in unison to find terrifyingly sharp teeth grinning back at them, there was little more they could do to defend themselves from a counterattack. Without warning, Eater snatched them up from the ground and hurled the two across the sand as if they weighed nothing. Crona's knees rattled as his comrades flew by him, their groans of pain as they smacked against soft earth making the young Reaper pray with everything he had that he wasn't next.

"I'll take care of them, Black Star," the monster of a Reaper called back to his friend, almost casually. "Tell Stein I'll keep them from fucking up his house, alright?"

"Yeah whatever you say, Soul. I'll tell him after I wake up in another three hours," Black Star answered back, waiving him off as he started off inside.

Watching the Azure Knight leave, the Reaper who wasn't a Reaper anymore made a disgusted face. "And put some pants on for fuck's sake!"

Without looking back, Black of the Star clan flipped his nagging friend the bird and slammed the door shut behind him as he disappeared inside. Left standing there, Eater gave a bitter scowl before turning his attention back to the four heralds. Among them was Crona who, still following orders, kept far behind the others as they quickly regrouped in front of him. Dengu scrambled up from the ground and spat dryly, followed by the other two Reapers. They jumped to their feet and made a v-formation pointed towards their target. None of them were seriously injured, save of course for their pride.

The youngest of those assembled watched, mesmerized, as the White Haired Reaper wasted no time in getting things started. His attitude completely shifted, the air around him suddenly becoming much more serious at the disappearance of all emotion from his face. He raised his arm, hand out and palm up, and silently summoned the weapon that had made him a living legend. With a crack of white light that snaked from the Reaper's chest, it quickly gathered in his grasp and solidified into the shaft of a scarlet bladed scythe. Crona gaped at its beauty, nothing at all like what he'd been told it was supposed to look like; nobody ever said anything about gold around the head of it, or just how sharp and deadly it looked even from so far away!

It was so intimidating, the inexperienced soldier had no idea how to respond. He just stood there and shook, wanting to step away but not even having the courage to do that. Instead, the others responded for him. No hesitation in their movements, the other three Reapers summoned their weapons as well. For the silent pair, both summoned steel claws on opposite arms that matched the other's. They gleamed silver, ornately carved, more than likely being twins underneath their covers as well. At the same time, Dengu displayed why he was in charge. To his left hand, a crack of golden light formed into the shape of an odd-looking ax. Instead of a blade at the end of it, three solid prongs formed its shape. At its base, a jagged and ornate hilt.

"That's not the same scythe from a hundred years ago, Eater!" the tall Reaper boomed, sounding almost offended. "Your soul has changed, hasn't it? You're weaker now!"

Still in a state of utter calm, the white Reaper brought his scythe out to the side and looked it over himself. "Lots of things have changed, Dengu. But if you think I'm weak, I'll prove you wrong."

"I'm here to serve your sentencing, Eater. By Lord Grim, for consorting with the Eventide Angel-" Dengu began to recite, ignoring his target's suddenly wide eyes, "-I'm going to finish what should have been done a long time ago."

For the first time in his young life, Crona understood what it meant to be a Reaper. The air around him whipped into a frenzy and a second later he gasped in amazement when everyone in front of him disappeared into nothingness, the sand where they once stood thrown into the sky with such force that it blotted out the sun. He shielded his eyes as debris pelted his face, along with the onlookers of people far behind him that weren't smart enough to take shelter earlier. All of them were now at the mercy of four very powerful creatures, and Crona wasn't sure if they would pay enough attention to avoid hurting any of them as they fought. At the moment, all he could do was try and keep up with battle taking place right before him, so fast it was barely able to be seen.

In a cloud of sand, the white Reaper dashed back and forth as his attackers followed suit. Their weapons drawn, the twin Reapers chased him down on either side and lunged with metallic claws extended. Eater looked back and forth between the both of them and threw his scythe around as if it weighed nothing, his ability to defend far surpassing theirs to attack. They grew desperate as their claws bounced off his blade without doing damage, and quickly they took to jumping in the air and alternating sides in an effort to throw him off.

With a scowl, he took his foot and stuck the ground. A skid of sand trailed as he came to a dead stop, the others finding out too late that their target was now behind them until was already too late. By the time they came to a stop and spun around to dash back, they witnessed with terrified eyes as Eater met them face to face. Such a cold face, they had no way of knowing just went through his mind as he took his scythe and brought it upwards from the ground. In an arc of shining white, the scarlet scythe drew blood for the first time in months. For one of the Reapers, it would be their last fight.

"Pillar in the dark," he whispered to himself as his blade slashed through flesh, screams drowning out all other noise around them. "Under-Arc Hunter!"

Needle Village erupted into a giant plume of light, forcing everyone including Crona to shield their eyes once again. The lone Reaper's screams came to a halt as his body split in two, none of it being seen by anyone save for the cause of it all. By the time everyone returned to their senses and the white Reaper disappeared yet again, only one of the twin attackers was left standing. His entire body frozen, he alone dared to look down at the bloody heap of clothing next to him. He nearly gagged at the sight, and threw his head back to shout for Dengu to avenge his brother.

Absent the entire time, Crona's leader finally made his appearance. Out of nowhere he emerged from the shadows, perched atop one of the rickety shacks like a buzzard to the smell of rotted meat. As if waiting for something, he crouched there patiently and looked with pity at the remains of what used to be his comrade. He muttered something to himself about revenge, and it wasn't a moment later that his prey came to him right on schedule. Dengu turned his head to the side as a certain white haired man suddenly materialized right before him. The look of surprise across Eater's face was so noticeable that Mr. Dinga broke into a haughty sneer, his axe already reared and ready to sink into its soon-to-be victim.

"You may be powerful, but you were also so predictable!" The Grim's herald popped to his feet, back straight as he leered down at him.

Eater's surprise only lasted a second before regressing into another one of his angry scowls, "Don't talk to me like you're my equal!"

"I'm your _superior_!" Dengu hissed, this time breaking all his composure as he lunged forward with his ax to finish things.

The white Reaper stepped backward, his feet instinctively knowing where to land on such a narrow roof. His scythe came to defense once again, a technique he'd learned after months of training with its new form. As Dengu threw all his weight into a two-handed strike, Eater brought his blade around the side like a windmill. At the perfect time he struck, just the right spot where he could knock both ax harmlessly to the side with Dengu along with it. Eyes wide, Crona watched their leader made the exact same expression as their prey suddenly became the attacker.

As Dengu fell to the side, the White Haired Reaper swung his leg around and brought a crushing blow to the bastard's face. He watched with stoicism as the lanky Reaper reeled and flew off the side of the shack, ending with a soft thud from the sands below them. Not missing a beat, Eater hopped over his scythe and followed to chase after him. It was like they were both reading each other's minds, because no sooner had Dengu recovered and hopped back to his feet that The Grim's strongest was standing right there behind him. He already knew where he'd be.

"I don't care for this game you're playing," Eater growled in the man's ear, so close his breath brushed against skin. "I never cared for titles."

Mr. Dinga made a pained sort of face. "You're a fucking hypocrite! That's why you ate those souls back then, to become the strongest!"

"Tell me why you called her that," the Reaper ignored him. "If he's doing something to Maka, I'll drag him back to hell with me!"

"I'm going to send you back empty handed, Eater!" Dengu roared back, summoning his ax again as he spun around attack.

Crona, the villagers, everyone watching, they stood in awe as a fight broke out between two men that transcended what was supposed to be real. Every step they took, every swing of their blades, it sent shock waves throughout the tiny village and the earth beneath them. As Dengu swung, the sheer force of his missed attacks sent canyons of sand in different directions. Two shacks on either side became obliterated almost instantly, with no one thankfully inside. Meanwhile, Eater dodged them all. His dexterity had improved somewhat, and his control over the scythe was still unparalleled.

He used all of these to his advantage. At every opportunity he could make, he would cut Dengu off at the pass and stop his attack before it could even be launched. With the few seconds of time that gave him, he would bring his foot up and stamp him in the chest. It wasn't enough force to hurt the slender Reaper, but that wasn't the point. Calm and collected, Eater watched carefully as Dengu's temper only increased with each missed attack and every kick to his torso. He was being taunted and it pissed him off to no end, which translated into more powerful strikes of his ax. More sand kicked up, more earth destroyed, and every time he swung Eater found it harder and harder to parry his blows. But as Dengu's strength grew, so too did his sloppiness.

His stance was off, his movements were too blunt. Sure he was powerful, more so than most Reapers, but his pride was his biggest weakness. Eater knew this and after minutes of blow-for-blow combat, his old acquaintance finally made a mistake. His ax came down just a hairsbreadth to the side, but for the white Reaper it was enough. In an instant, he brought his scythe up to knock the weapon out of his hand. The blade made a whistling sound as it flew through the air, followed by a sharp clang as steel met itself. Dengu watched, in horror, as his weapon left him.

It unceremoniously fell to the ground. Just a simple thud would be the sound of the Reapers death, because Eater wasted no time. Crona saw everything play out from his lookout point, his eyes wanting to water but something in the air just wouldn't allow it. Maybe it was just pure fascination of what was to come, when The Grim's Strongest brought his scythe out in front of him and held it straight up towards the sun like a staff. Only instead of striking, he just held onto it a strange stance; arms horizontal, his palms open as if ready to hold on tight.

"I'll show you why nobody can have my empty seat on Spartoi," Eater cautioned, his eyes suddenly turning a bright crimson. "Why only soul eaters have the strength to be called monsters."

That feeling Crona had, the fascination of what was to come, was quickly satisfied. On the one hand it was horrific, just the sheer speed and strength in which it all took place. Most of him wanted to scream and heave up last night's dinner; how quickly his leader was ripped to shreds would have made anyone sick. But what scared Crone truly was the fact that part of him actually liked seeing it, that moment when the White Haired Reaper took his scythe and, in a single motion that nobody besides a Reaper could see, slashed in the form of a hexagram all along Mr. Dinga's body. To get a scythe moving quickly enough to slash someone so many times as they ran past them, such a thing seemed impossible.. but he did it. Somehow, Eater did it.

"Assault on six sides," the Reaper recited to himself tiredly, as a heap of bones and flesh turned to dust right behind him. "Hexagonal Hunt!"

Staring out into an empty desert, Dengu's face changed not a degree. He was emotionless, hollow, as if his spirit was already dead and buried. The only thing he did, just before collapsing to the ground, was look down at what was left of his body. Like Eater's scythe was cursed, every point on his body that had come into contact with it turned to a dry, ebony sand. No pain, no feeling of any kind, Dengu simply accepted his fate without a word. Crona watched with no emotion as his superior fell and died right there. Nobody said a word, since nothing would have seemed appropriate anyway.

The white Reaper didn't try to look at the dead man. All he did was look up to the sky and sigh, his body tired from using the techniques he hadn't yet fully mastered. Scythe at his side, he shook his head and threw the weapon over his shoulders. Crona, numb from everything and silently scarred, just stood there and watched Eater turn towards him. The latter made an interested face, brow raised in earnest as he looked the boy over. Finding something in the young Reaper, he made his way toward him casually as if never having killed two men in the past ten minutes.

With his free hand, he dug into his pant pocket in search of something. "You were tagging along with them, right?"

"M-Me?" Crona suddenly piped, his heart pumping back to life when Eater nodded. "Yes! I mean, n-no! Mr. Dinga told me to stay!"

"I can hear your soul," he replied calmly, the exhaustion clear and heavy on his voice. "It's different from the others. I think I can trust you-"

Eater suddenly stopped dead in his track, something capturing his attention enough to cause those blood red eyes of his to open wide. Crona cocked his head to the side in confusion, not knowing why he froze like that. Then all of a sudden he felt it too; he was a young Reaper, but even he could tell when another was in the area. His brain finally kicked into gear and he realized who it was; the last remaining herald. The brother of the twin that Eater had killed was still alive, and for some really strange reason Crona wished that he wasn't.

At that same thought, the sand behind the white Reaper erupted like a geyser. He had no time to react, only enough to spin around and gaze into the eyes of the claw-armed assassin as he lunged like a giant cat ready to mall and kill. Eater's face twisted in an angry panic, his body in no shape to make a last ditch effort to escape. The Reaper knew this and put his all into a strike aimed right at his target's face, a look of furious blood lust just underneath his cloak. For a second there, Crona was actually afraid this legend was going to die right before his eyes.

But he didn't. _"I can't sleep with all this noise just outside my window!"_

Blood splattered all over Eater's face, though none of it was his own. In front of him hovered the would-be killer, the light gone from his eyes and body limp as out from his torso jetted out a rusted blade. Its wielder, a familiar half-naked man still suspiciously pant-less, kept the corpse in the air with only one arm. The white Reaper sighed in relief, with Black Star giving him a look of sheer annoyance. Effortlessly he tossed the now dead assassin away like trash and the old sword along with it, all so casually that Crona couldn't understand just how nonchalant these two men could be.

"And you tell me I'm the immature one? Stein told you not to overdo it on the scythe moves, Soul," Black Star grunted, picking at his ear lazily.

Eater gave a toothy grin with just as much laziness. "That's the thing about training, you always have to push yourself a little bit farther each time."

Black Star only gave a shrug and shook his head, waving off his friend to finish things. Silently, the Reaper agreed and turned his attention back to Crona, who at the point in time was still trying to figure out just who these people were. They were so abnormal, so powerful, but the way they acted was nothing the young soldier had ever seen before. Reapers were all proud and stiff, and Eater was supposed to be all of those things a hundred times over. But he didn't know how to deal with this Reaper who wasn't a Reaper anymore, because he acted nothing like what he was expecting. The man with the bandage over his eye warned him he had to kill this person, that he was dangerous to The Grim and the world. But slowly, Crona started to realize maybe they were wrong-

"-I've got something for you," a familiar drawl snapped the young Reaper from his thoughts. "I need something done and you're the only one who can do it."

Crona snapped to attention, his face flustered red with embarrassment. "Y-You need something from me? But, I'm supposed to kill you...I mean-!?"

He didn't know what to say or do; nobody had prepared him to actually fight with anyone, let alone talk with the enemy like this. He was just supposed to be cannon fodder, an able body that was good at taking up space and nothing else. That's all he was, and yet Crona felt slightly different when he gathered enough courage to look this Soul person in the eyes. Red stared back at him, but it wasn't the scary crimson that he'd seen during the fight. Instead, he found a hardened face with a soft expression looking back at him. Those sharp teeth weren't twisted into a scowl, but a tired grin that only confused Crona even more. It was the grin that broke him down, and finally convinced the useless soldier that whatever Eater had to say, it was worth listening to.

"Okay..." he relented after staring for an awkward amount of time, ducking his head in a sad attempt to hide.

Soul raised a brow and smiled. At the same time, he pulled out something from his pocket. "Take this book for me, would you?"

"...A book?" Crona perked slightly, just enough to take the thing and look at its cover. "Why are you giving me a book? Is it important?"

Didn't look like it, at least not to him. More of a journal than anything else, the binding seemed solid enough at least. Crona wasn't much of a reader, but even then he felt like something about this book was special. There was no title on the front, only what looked like an author in gold print; Eibon. The pages seemed worn, like someone had been flipping through them for months on end. Notes stuck out that a person had placed inside, keeping track of something important that he didn't have the time to figure out.

The white Reaper nodded. "Keep it hidden. When you return to Death, find a woman named Maka. Tell her it's from me."

"...Wait, you mean the Eventide Angel!? I can't do that!" Crona gasped, frantically waving his arms out in front of him. Soul of course frowned.

"I'm not asking you to lie, go ahead and tell The Grim," he shrugged, slightly annoyed. "I don't care, just make sure she gets it. Do it and I'll owe you anything."

Crona suddenly stopped his frantic denial and thought about things for a second; a favor from the White Haired Reaper? One of the strongest people in the desert, maybe even the _world?_No matter the reservations he had about talking with the enemy, something like this couldn't be passed up. He was young not stupid, and looking at the little book in his hands Crona figured that such a simple task could be done easily enough. Nothing to worry about, right? The more he thought about it, the better things started to sound in his already messed up little head.

Probably Soul figured he won the boy over, since already he was holding his hand out for him to take. Crona looked at it, then up at him, then back down to the hand again. It was now or never and the longer he waited, the more people started to come out of their shacks to see if the coast was clear. So many onlookers, Crona couldn't handle all the attention. He wanted to disappear as quickly as he'd come, so swallowing the lump in his throat he took Soul's hand and shook on things. Now, he was bound to this favor. No backing out, his life was to this man...the hell had he just done?

"Good, now get the hell outta here," Eater told him flatly, retracting his hand into his pocket. "We've got a lot of cleaning up to do."

Crona's face grew bright red again as he looked around and noticed broken shacks and pissed off faces. "Oh, right. Whatever you say, Mr. Eater..."

Soul snorted, but waved the boy off without saying a word. He turned around and hobbled off to meet back with his waiting friend who, Crona was dismayed to find, still didn't have any pants on. Not having any reason to stick around either, and with an entire village of curious people ready to start asking him questions, the little Reaper slowly turned around to make his way out of there. Along the sandy road towards the desert, a million different things ran through his head. The compelling promise he'd made a fugitive, the death of his superiors and fellow soldiers. None of it made sense, and Crona supposed it never would. No amount of time would make any of this sound right, but strangely he was okay with that. Sort of at least, somewhat...

_"_Hey, new blood!" he heard Eater call out to him yet again, his voice far off at this point. "Tell me something! Why does everyone I talk to call Maka the Eventide Angel?"

Crona's head popped up and he turned around, finding Eater and Black Star there where he left them. "I, uh, I don't know! They...they just do! She's famous!"

Then all of a sudden it disappeared. All the doubt, all the confusion, the worry, it vanished with Soul's reply. "...Just do me another favor, okay? Please, watch over her till I get back."

Something clicked in the young Reaper's head, the way that man spoke making him freeze for a second and stare at the fugitive he was sent to kill. Maybe it was the softness, that slightly desperate lilt in his request, that made Crona agree to him yet again. He found himself waving to the man, despite not even having done so before. Soul seemed just as surprised as him, and with a confused sort of smile waived him off yet again. It wasn't a friendly goodbye, Crona could tell that much; it was his way of being polite and hurrying him along, like a school child.

But he didn't mind at all, in fact he obliged by turning around without stalling any longer. Without a sound, he made his trek back towards the open desert and hoped to find the Runaway Express before sundown. By then, he could get back to Death and report everything to Lord Grim. Hopefully he wouldn't be too upset with him, although The Grim never liked it when one of his Reapers was killed...he didn't know how to deal with an angry god and hopefully would never need to. Maybe just being alive would be enough to keep him happy? Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

At this point in his ranting, Crona was already outside the village. He didn't realize it until a buzzard flew above him and cawed, making his head snap towards the direction of the noise which was slightly behind him. The sight of tiny shacks made him think about the Reaper named Soul all over again, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wouldn't be the last time they'd meet. Especially not when he made such a promise to a total stranger, though Crona knew right away he couldn't help it. There were so many things he didn't know, things no one would tell him since he was so young. A tiny part of him wanted to find out more and, despite being the ever cautious soldier, that tiny part ended up taking charge. He wanted to discover the world, just a little bit of it at least.

But mostly, he wanted to know why that man looked so sad when he mentioned the Angel's name.


End file.
